Its own special kind of apocalypse
by Asterysk
Summary: Being a nation comes with a few ground rules: the first being that for everyone's safety, nations don't exist. But with the dawn of the internet, someone was going to start piecing together the traces they left behind sooner or later. Can they all pull through the rough times ahead, or will the world be changed beyond recognition? (T for language and violence. My first story!)
1. A global threat from a bedroom

**I don't own Hetalia. What a shame.**

* * *

Snow drifted softly down outside the window, the room on the other side of the glass illuminated by the last rays of sun, and the whitish blue light of a laptop.

There were a few posters on the walls. On one of them, signatures covered the maple leaf logos on each player's team kit. On another, a polar bear wandering through the frozen wilderness.

The bed was placed against the wall underneath the polar bear poster. Canada was sat on it, Kumajirou curled up beside him. He smiled to himself at the sleeping ball of fur, before turning his attention back to the screen, scrolling down the webpage.

Currently, he was flicking through a discussion forum. He wasn't going to make any posts, he had discovered the hard way in the past that people didn't pay attention to him on the internet as well as in the flesh. But still he scrolled through the countless posts, just happy to glean a small insight into the lives of regular people.

One thread caught his eye in the list. "The same people through history? Immortal? Family resemblance?" it asked. Canada chuckled quietly; this kind of conspiracy theory thread reminded him of his brother somewhat.

He clicked on it out of curiosity. The first post was pretty much expected: a sensationalist and poorly written wall of text. Skimming over it, he reached a collection of images. Most were photos of crowds, with a person picked out and circled. He skimmed over a few of the images before scrolling back up to the top picture.

He zoomed in on the small figure circled in a large company of soldiers, taken, according to the caption, during the Vietnam war.

He recognised him instantly. It was America.

Canada's eyes widened. It was him, without a doubt, down to that distinctive hair curl.

Starting to panic, he scrolled down to the next image. This one was said to have been taken during World War One. Sure enough, out of a group of soldiers, his brother had been circled out.

The third image, taken during World War Two, away from the front line, circled out three people. His brother was one of them again, but this time England and France had been circledas well, stood to either side of him.

Canada closed the laptop. The sun had set now, and the sudden lack of light left him in the dark.

His mind was racing. The first rule of being a nation was that your very existence and nature was need to know information. This was for countless reasons: their own safety was the first and foremost. If someone got it into their head that they were immortal, and managed to track them down, they'd be in grave danger. And yet, his brother, England, France, and possibly many more of them, had been all been picked out of crowds, their inevitable ghosts linked together in a way they had hoped to god wouldn't happen.

Reopening the laptop, he skimmed through some more of the images. Each picked out a nation, with many of the major nations appearing a number of times.

He was reaching the last few of the sizable number of them when Kumajirou stirred. The bear stretched, yawned and opened his eyes before sleepily looking up at Canada.

"Who are you?" came the inevitable question.

Canada sighed for a moment before giving his usual, well practiced response. "I'm Canada, your owner."

The bear lazily blinked, seemingly processing this information, before turning to the laptop screen and the image currently displayed on it. "Who's that?" he asked, delicately pointing to the focus of the image with a claw.

Canada turned back to the screen. "That's... Hungary, I think." This photo had supposedly been taken during the Hungarian Uprising during the cold war, where Hungary had tried to loosen Russia's grip on her country. Here, she was running through a street while clutching a gun, hair tangled, and with dirt and blood streaked across her face.

This was serious. This wasn't some list buried in a remote corner of the internet either, long since forgotten about, the list was recent, and other users were adding their own images to the list. One such user had dug out an illustration of the coronation of James the First of England, two people with a strong resemblance to England and Scotland picked out of the collection of those depicted with the monarch. This image in particular was gathering a lot of attention, simply because it seemed to push back the "first sighting" by more than a hundred years.

He couldn't do nothing. But, he knew he would get absolutely nowhere by himself. He hovered over his mobile for a moment.

He picked it up, dialing his brother's number. It ringed for what seemed forever, before cutting to the automated response. Canada muttered under his breath, cursing his luck. Anyone else he could call would either be asleep or busy. Email? Ugh, it would probably end up in the junk mail folder knowing his luck and get forgotten.

Hang on. There was a G8 meeting in a couple of days...

He started collecting the images, saving them and printing them out wirelessly. Kumajirou watched intently, aware that something was deeply troubling his owner.

Canada just hoped that they weren't too late to stop the flood.

* * *

**Eep, first chapter done! It came out shorter than expected, but the next one should be longer. I hope you like it so far, this is the first story I've succeeded in forcing myself to start writing. :P**

**This plotline was originally going to be just one part of a ****_ridiculously_**** long story, but I realised it would simply be ****_too_**** long, both to write and read, so I adapting some of the sub plots into separate stories. This is still going to be long, if all goes to plan. ;)**


	2. Crashing back down to Earth

**I don't own Hetalia, oddly enough.**

* * *

They had gathered in the conference room, laughing, chatting and arguing, having navigated the Parisian streets to get there. Once they had sat down, there was a slight lull in the talk, and Germany saw the chance to start.

"Now that we all appear to be present... The first topic for discussion at this meeting of the G8: The protocols in place in the event of a global emergency affecting long distance communications." Germany's voice boomed across the table.

He paused a moment to look round the large room and those gathered in it before continuing. "These protocols must cover a large number of possibilities, from terrorist threats to natural disasters, and as such-"

"Hey, what about if a giant solar flare fried all the satellites and they all fell to Earth?! What then?" America butted in.

Germany held his face in his hands, muttering under his breath. "As... As I was saying, these protocols need to be able to stand up to a range of possible calamities, _such as the collapse of the satellite network._ The main objective in such events should be to try and reestablish some form of communication, but consideration-"

"_Allemagne, _you are stating the obvious. The first thing we would do anyway in such a crisis would be to try and reestablish communications. We don't need a protocol-."

"_If you will let me finish my introduction France, I was going to add that we should consider how the general public would react to suddenly being cut off from the wider world._ There would likely be panic, which would increase along with time cut off. Looting might become a problem, as would other crime, as some would see the collapse of communication as an opportunity to-"

"The obvious answer to that would be to form a super secret squad of superheroes, and they'd totally save everyone and the world! I'd be the leader, of course-"

"America, that is just the latest in a _long_ line of utterly awful ideas. For one, how are we supposed to find or create a squad of superheroes? We don't have the technology, plus the communications would be down in this scenario-"

"Hey, you could join too if you wanted Iggy, every superhero squad needs a weird magic type of guy-"

"What gives you the bloody idea that I want to join your stupid-"

"If you could _both be quiet_-"

"Ve, what if there was a pasta shortage?"

"What if there was a vodka shortage again? Last time was not pretty, da?"

"Quiet-"

"Really, I don't think that-"

"What's wrong with my idea-"

"(Personally, I liked the robot idea better-)"

"What would we do without pasta?!

"(_Gott, _why do I even try?)

* * *

The room had decended into chaos, each of the _seven_ nations around the table clamouring to try and make their voices heard over their colleagues.

It was at this moment that the door to the meeting room quietly opened, with a sound that would have been barely audible even if the room was silent, let alone with this noise.

"Um, sorry I'm late, but it's very important... Er..." Canada surveyed the room, each nation too busy arguing, or, in the case of England, hitting America round the head to pay attention to the new arrival. Not that they would have noticed him anyway, as was evident by the fact they had started without him. Canada sighed, supposing it was better than being crushed by Russia.

Checking the large folder under his arm, he then made his way to the empty chair at the table. He didn't sit down, hoping this would make his presence more noticeable. He cleared his throat, and tried to get their attention.

"...Guys! This is _really important._"

No response aside from the continued bickering.

Canada gulped, and tried raising his voice more. " _PLEASE! This is important! Global threat important!"_

Still nothing. Canada was getting visibly irate, a rarity for him, but this was urgent. And urgent times call for desperate measures.

Canada charged round the table, hitting the rest of the bickering G8 with the folder as he went round, startling them all. He reached his seat again, now with the attention of the room.

Huh. He might just remember that for the future.

"Listen everyone. This is serious." Canada gestured to the folder as he said this. He placed the folder on the table, opening it and taking out the sizable stack of papers it contained. "These are pictures of _us. _I found them on the internet, on a discussion forum. People are starting to _recognise us and associate us with one another and world events._ They think we're immortal! They're right, I suppose, but if knowledge of our existence gets out into the public domain... you all know what danger that poses!"

Canada sat down with a sigh.

The nations round the table slowly blinked. "How... How long have you been trying to get our attention Canada?" England asked somewhat sheepishly.

"Not that long... You started without me..." Canada admitted.

They all exchanged embarrassed glances, mumbling apologies. Germany was the first to speak up after this. "These pictures... You said they were on a discussion forum? Was it active?"

Canada nodded. "It was one of the most active topics on the site. People are still adding to it... It was part of the reason I was late." He squirmed in his seat. As urgent as this was, he wasn't comfortable with being at the centre of attention.

He was visibly trembling, and the sight of this caused America to break the stupor that had settled over the other G8 members.

"Canada, Bro? You okay?" He put a hand on his brother's shoulder, visible concern on his face.

Canada looked up, a small, sad smile on his face."Yeah. It's just, seeing all these pictures... This is serious. It really, really is." He paused a moment, shaking his head, before turning away to spread the stack of pictures out face up on the table.

The sheer number of photos was staggering. The nations round the table were silent as they each considered what these photos could mean. France laughed half heartedly in an attempt to relieve the nervous atmosphere. "_Mon dieu_, Canada, how much printer ink did you use?"

The small smile returned to Canada's face. "A lot."

Hesitantly, the G8 started to sift through the photos.

* * *

**Chapter 2 done! This actually got split into two chapters, as I felt the next part would be better as a separate chapter. Hopefully you liked this, and that you don't feel that I mucked up characterisation here: I quite enjoyed writing the meeting. Alas, I feel I should have given Japan more lines, but he's hard to write dialogue for. :P**


	3. Face to face with the past

**Hetalia. Guess what? I don't own it.**

* * *

Germany picked up a pair of photos that caught his eye. Prussia, dressed in a slightly shabby jacket, was tearing down part of the Berlin wall with help of a sledgehammer. The other one showed the other side of the wall, and himself as well, helping to tear down the concrete scar. He didn't need to look at the caption with the photo, that moment was still so vivid in his mind. He just wanted to break through, to see his brother again after so long. All around him, others were doing the same, looking for friends and family caught on the wrong side of the wall. Soon after this was taken, they had broken through, a frenzied scrabbling over the rubble. His brother had set aside his "awesomeness" without hesitation, so he could embrace his literal other half for the first time in years. Germany allowed himself to get lost in the memory of the bitter sweet reunion: It was one of the better memories he had.

* * *

As Germany gazed at the photos, Japan sorted through some more photos. He froze, hand hovering over one in particular. Slowly, falteringly, he picked it up. It was of himself, but perhaps some would have difficulty recognising him amongst the ruins around him. His white naval uniform was charred and torn, what skin that was visible to the camera was covered in blistering burns. He was slumped to the floor amongst the dirt, unable to run, to distance himself any further from the horror of Hiroshima. The wounds had healed in time, and what anger felt toward America had faded with time too, but just seeing the photo reignited the memory of the sheer agony and the heartache. He placed the photo face down on the table, unable to look any longer, his usual calm demeanour forgotten as tears fell.

* * *

Japan's reaction to the photo did not go unnoticed by America, and he didn't need to see the photo to guess what it was of. He bit his lip and turned his gaze down, guilt and regret flashing across his expression. In doing so, a half buried photo drew his attention. He brushed the other photos off it, lifting it up to get a better look at the small figure circled and lying on the ground. He didn't recognise who it was initially, but it clicked once he read the caption: _Assassination of JFK. _

The memories came flooding back. On leave from the Vietnam War, he had tried to distract himself from the dire war. He was in the crowd when it had happened and had felt the shot go through his own heart. The sudden pain had caught him off guard and he had collapsed, sending panic rippling through the crowd around him. The CIA had managed to keep all records of him collapsing at the same time as the president being shot quiet, and yet, this photo survived.

He couldn't help the thought crossing his mind that if this had slipped through the net, what else had?

* * *

Small tears rolled down Italy's cheek as went through a series of images. These were photos of sketches, what they had been drawn on was long since yellowed, a small signature in the corner of each one, _Venez__iano. _

They were his old sketches, drawn while living at Austria's house. He had lost them a while ago, disappearing while he had been moving house for a while. He had been distraught when he discovered that they were missing, they held some good memories of a time that was a long time ago. Austria at his piano. Hungary helping him to sweep the house. A self portrait, Chibitalia happily smiling out of the page. Holy Rome, curled up asleep next to Hungary... He liked that one the best.

He had thought he would never see them again, and here they were, but these were only copies. Someone else out there had them, his sketches. Did they know who these people were? The thought that his sketches might have put them all in danger turned his stomach.

He wished he had them all back.

* * *

Russia was impassive as he flicked through the large amount of photos. There of photos of him at Communist rallies across the years, various happenings throughout the Cold War, one or two with his sisters, the baltics. He knew it was serious, but it didn't _bother him_ really. But... There was one picture, taken during the Russian Revoloution. The picture had him circled, swept up in the crowd, swarming the Czar's palace. Unlike the other pictures, this one roused a memory from his mind. After this was taken, he had ended up at the back of the crowd that had formed inside the palace, circling the Imperial family. Voices were raised and frantic, some begging, some demanding. He wasn't really listening, he was paying attention to the shift of power that he could sense, the direction of his future changing around him. The voices were louder now, snapping him back to his surroundings, as they moved to lead the family away. But just before they were, young Alexi spotted him in the crowd, calling to him, pleading with him to help.

_"Ivan! Ivan! Please!"_

The sudden memory stirred something in Russia's heart. What was it? Pity? Regret? It made him uncomfortable, and he didn't like it.

* * *

England was going through the numerous print outs near him. One caught his attention, because unlike the others, it was not a photo, but a page of a letter or diary. He picked it up, noting the neat handwriting and the old style of phrasing, familiar to him, jarring him back to the world of his past self.

_"We have control of the countrie, the evidence, the man known as Arthur in chains. He was strangely silent, and seem'd to accept his fate as we came for him, but even he could not hide the tremble as he was led away to the tower._

_When I ask'd Cromwell who he was, I only receive'd a cryptic reply, about howe he was the "symbol of our legitimacie as a nation". I do not knowe what he meant by this, but that man is either bless'd or curse'd. All wounds upon his skin heal with unnatural speed, what would kill any other he withstands. __I do not knowe what that man Arthur has done, but death would be mercy for someone who has gone through such pain."_

As he came to the end, he was frozen, memories from the civil war dredged up from the depths. When he roused once again, he realised that the extract had used his _name. _This... was very bad.

They all had human names, names they had chosen, used by their government to keep records of them, but it was the unspoken rule amongst them to only tell those closest to you your real name. He supposed it had its basis in security, if you had the name, you could maybe start to trace the faint paper trail they had each left. It also had a personal reason; their names were were one of the few things they had to set them apart as people, not nations.

Had Canada read this? He suspected he had just printed out every image, not looking too closely. He didn't blame him, with the sheer number here. It wasn't a problem either way, he already knew his name having raised him for a time, and he knew his. Still, it would be better to sweep this one under the metaphorical carpet.

Silently, he folded it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

* * *

France was scared of the photos. There had been times in the past where he hated what he was, and his only comfort was the ability to melt into the crowds, to pretend to be an average citizen. If... If the world found out... Those days would be over. No more chatting up people on street corners and bars, no more wandering the streets.

He wasn't paying attention to the papers as he went through them, looking up from them often. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw England carefully tuck away one of the pieces of paper in his pocket. He decided to ask him about it later, but for now, he was drawn to a picture he had just noticed. He hesitated, before picking it up.

It was a simple photo of a bustling street, taken not long ago. He was circled, smiling and talking to the young woman following him. Joan... Ah, _non_... Her name was Lisa in this life. He smiled sadly as he thought about her. The smile dissapeared when he thought about how this photo, out there on the internet, might just put her in danger. Someone out there might be determined enough to try and track her down, thinking she might know him. It was remote, but possible.

If he was the reason she couldn't live a normal life for the second time, he wouldn't forgive himself.

And he would do all in his power to ensure that she did.

* * *

Canada watched silently as they examined the collection of photos. He had at least glanced at each one as he printed them out, and he felt no need to do so again. After all, he had dryly noted that there had not been one photo of him amongst all of them.

He slumped forward slightly, holding his face in his hands, elbows on the table. It had been a long night, collating the ever growing number of pictures into a file, and he was missing his sleep. He was glad that nations seemed to have a natural resistance to jet lag, else he would feel even the worse for wear. He shuddered at the thought of world meetings where half of those present were sleep deprived: there were plenty of nations that were scary enough with a good eight hours sleep.

Canada sighed again, coming out of his daydream to notice that the rest of the G8 were either staring at one of the photos or staring into space, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Perhaps this was time to bring them all back to the here and now...

"Er... So, what should we do about these photos?"

…No response.

He mumbled under his breath, wishing he had had more maple syrup with his breakfast this morning.

* * *

**…Aaand done. Phew, the longest one yet. :)**

**Poor Japan, every thing I write for him ends up shorter than the other's bits. What can I say, Japan is a man of few words. I'll try and make it up to him. :P**

**(Also I probably massacred the English language in England's letter. I apologise.)**


	4. Retreat and regroup even stronger

**I don't own Hetalia. I wish I did. I wish I could draw.**

* * *

"This is bad. The CIA was supposed to have erased all record of my collapse after JFK was shot, but this picture was just on the internet. Our governments were supposed to have erased all record of us or kept it locked up in some top secret facility, but these photos were all out there!" America waved the photo in the air as he spoke, trying to emphasise his point. "If they can't prevent this sort of thing from happening, we're totally screwed!"

Those round the table were brought out of their thoughts, and couldn't help but agree with him. England shifted in his seat. "Yes, there's certainly enough information contained within these to start to guess what we are... Someone might figure it out and take it upon themselves to exact revenge over something that was hundred of years ago..." The mention of this caused fidgeting in the room, the atmosphere tense, words failing them all.

After yet another long silence, it was Japan to speak up first, his voice halting and somewhat shaky. "We should go home, and inform each of our governments... Of these developments. ...Canada, do you have the details of the website?"

"...eh? Oh, yes. Here they are." Canada passed round slips with info on the website and main users adding to the directory. Japan accepted his with a nod, looking at it briefly before continuing. "We should also inform the others as soon as possible... Every nation. If this should come to something, it would affect all of us."

Murmurs of agreement all round, before Germany found his voice again. "I think it's agreed: we need to shut down this collection of photos as well as minimise what damage has been done. This may well mean we need to take extra care for a while. I'll set about organising an emergency World Meeting, and I'll inform you of the date and time as soon as possible."

They all filed out of the room silently, preparing themselves to break the news to their bosses.

* * *

"_Angleterre_?"

England paused before getting into the car. "...what is it frog?"

"I saw you hide that photo... What was on it that meant you had to do that? It's already out there on the internet, is it not?"

England turned to face him, the small backstreet around them deserted. "I don't know what you're talking about." France glared at him as soon as the words left his mouth, signalling that he wouldn't get away so easily. He sighed and pulled out the roughly folded piece of paper from his pocket. "It's... It's a photo of a diary or letter. From the civil war. One of Cromwell's soldiers. They used my name! I couldn't just leave it-"

France snatched the page from him, fending off England's attempts to get it back. "_Angleterre, _you are babbling again. It... Wait..." He held the page closer to his face to check what he had thought he read. "They took you to the tower?! All this time and no mention to _moi _of it? Just what did they do to you?!"

Shit. It just kept getting better, didn't it?

"I-It was nothing, I was only locked up for a little while-"

"Don't try to feed me that _merde, _Arthur. It talks of wounds, what did they do?"

England scowled, stood straighter and shifted his feet: the defensive body language that France had seen all too often. "...Why should you care anyway?..." he mumbled under his breath.

The blond shot him a dispairing look. "Because I am your friend, and if you still stubbornly refuse to accept that, your colleague. For the last time. What. Did. They. Do?"

There was no way he was going to ever win this battle... "...What do you _think _they did? You should know how it is in times like that: They want to make sure you know who's in charge, and that you don't forget it. And believe me, Francis... I've tried to."

With that, he turned back and opened the car door. Just before he could get in, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "...I believe you. I... understand. Just, please, don't shut yourself away again."

And then he was gone, leaving England alone in the street. Shaking his head, he finally climbed in the car.

* * *

Germany found his mind wandering from the road in front of him as he drove. The situation as a whole was extremely worrying, but it was the words of England that echoed in his head: "_Someone might figure it out and take it upon themselves to exact revenge.._." He of all people knew if that were to happen, he would be a prime target, and justifiably so...

He shook his head, trying to stop the memories from bubbling up to the surface. He felt it did no good to dwell on what he could not change, his energy was better focused on the here and now. And right now, the world's nations needed to do just that, if they had any hope of getting through this unscathed.

The horn of a passing car jolted him back. Perhaps he should focus on just the road for now.

* * *

France strolled through his streets, contemplating the photos, but also his talk with England. He understood why _Angleterre _had not told him, but he never told anyone anything... It wasn't good for him. He smiled sadly, he of all people knew revolution and civil war often meant for nations...

If only England would trust him, and come out of his shell, even if only a little... He chuckled slightly at the irony of the phrase "no man is an island".

_Wait_. He stopped suddenly, people muttering as they flowed around him, one person absorbed in his phone even bumping into him, apologising before he too hurried on his way. France took the hint and moved to the side of the street, as he too pulled out his mobile and dialed a number that he hadn't for a while.

* * *

**Numero quatro complete! Eee, reviews, glad you guys liked it! :)**

**As for the whereabouts of China, although he's a member of the allies and the second biggest economy in the world currently, he's not actually a member of the G8 due to a "lower level of development" or words to that effect. This is mirrored in episode in episode 82, where China is not present. I'm sure he'll show up soon, though. :)**

**Now, what is France plotting? Ehehehe, I'll give you a clue, I'm going to really enjoy writing the next chapter. XD**

**ALSO I MANAGED TO GIVE JAPAN SOME DECENT LINES HALLELUJAH**


	5. Breaking the news, Dealing with brothers

**If I owned Hetalia, I wouldn't be procrastinating on my Physics coursework.**

**Because I wouldn't have any.**

* * *

It had been a hectic journey home, the Eurotunnel was awful and the London congestion was hell, but what mattered was that he was here. He could put the kettle on, make a lovely cup of tea, and then break the bad news to the Prime Minister. He was about to unlock the door when it swung open by itself and oh bloody hell what was he doing here.

Blocking the doorway was the taller and redheaded figure of Scotland, smirk on his face as he took in England's surprised and crestfallen expression.

This impromptu staring contest ended when Scotland started laughing so hard he had to prop himself up on the doorframe.

This snapped England out of it. "Why the hell are you in my house? If I find you've raided the bloody cabinet for whiskey, I'm changing the locks."

When he had stopped laughing enough to reply, it was still punctuated by snickers of laughter. "Now, why would I dae that? Are ya accusing me of lacking tha decency of waiting for ya tae get home and offer first?"

"I'm not accusing you, that was a statement. And you still haven't answered my question: what are you doing here?"

"Heh, _auld _Francis called, said that you were skulking again and that you also had some news tae tell me."

France. This time... This time he swore he was going to _really_ going turn him into a frog.

Scotland sniggered, threatening to burst out laughing yet again. "If ye scowl any harder ye eyebrows'll get stuck like that..."

He was roughly shoved out of the way as England headed for the kitchen. He was certainly going to need that tea now.

* * *

Germany, once he arrived home, was greeted by his three dogs and the sight of a shirtless and sleeping Prussia on the sofa. He sighed, Prussia had never been a morning person, but lately his sleeping was getting more and more ridiculous. He briskly shook his shoulder, causing him to wake up with a snort, arms flailing. Once he had calmed down a little, he stared at his brother sleepily, red eyes bloodshot and skin paler than usual. Germany couldn't help but frown at the state of him. "_Bruder_, when did you get to bed last night?"

Prussia grinned somewhat lopsidedly. "I didn't."

It looked to Germany that he wasn't going to be too talkative today.

"Listen, something has happened. There's been a number of photos of us collected on the internet, from various points in time. We're informing each of our governments right now and organising an emergency World Meeting. Now, go lie down in a dark room, you look terrible."

Prussia squinted, trying to take the information in. "...what?"

Germany sighed again, and pulled him to his feet, before leading him to his bedroom. "Bed. No arguing." He made sure he couldn't by shutting the door before he could. He would have to tell him everything again later, when he could actually engage with the world in a meaningful way.

Aster, one of his dogs, came up to him to see what the fuss was about, and Germany scratched his ear as he thought.

...What was going on with him? Was he simply staying up too late? Was it drink?

...Could he be fading?

That one thought snuck into his mind and then grew louder and louder.

No, that was ridiculous. The Kingdom of Prussia had been dissolved decades ago, and he had eventually become East Germany. And while the wall had come down, they were still East and West, both a part of this nation, just like Italy and Romano were both parts of Italy. Why would he be fading now, more than two decades after reunification?

But it was possible, wasn't it?

No. No. No.

Aster trailed behind as he walked over to and grabbed the phone. This needed doing, and if it distracted him from his damned thoughts it was a bonus.

He dialed the Chancellor's number.

* * *

"So, what's tha news France said aboot?" Scotland had indeed got his hands on some whiskey, and was working his way through it, while England was sipping his tea. Mint bunny was floating around the ceiling with Nessie, the serpentine form who had followed Scotland here, the two of them playing and oblivious to the somewhat tense atmosphere below.

England paused with the teacup to his lips, before setting it down on the table beside his armchair. "...There's been a collection of photographs and written references to us, to_ all_ of us, found on the internet."

Scotland's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Perhaps not quite as eloquent as I would have put it, but that sums up the current situation nicely." He picked up his tea again, taking another sip.

Scotland downed the last of his whiskey in an attempt to steel himself. "What kind of photos? Any of me?"

"Photos taken at historical events mostly, a few diaries and letters talking about us too. And, yes, there were some of you, there was at least a couple of photos there for most of us."

"Well, what the fuck are we going tae do aboot it all?" Scotland's jovial mood had completely vanished by this point, and it was instead replaced by an angered worry.

England finished the last of his tea, examining the leaves at the bottom of the cup for a moment before answering. "Firstly, I'm going to inform the Prime Minister of this development, and secondly, Germany is organising an emergency World Meeting to address this. He'll send us the details once they're sorted."

Scotland was incredulous, and got up from his seat. "That's it? Faff around with meetings while some nutter could be plotting our demise?"

"It's all we can do by ourselves. Once I inform Westminster, I'm sure the intelligence services will be deployed to take care of it. In the words of Germany, we'll have to be more careful for a while, but I'm sure it'll blow over in the end. Have a little faith, Iain."

Scotland sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, at least let me call tha rest of the clan while you call tha PM."

England blinked. "_...We... We are not a clan..._ Okay, fine, you go call them."

Scotland nodded, but just before he had left the room to get his mobile, he doubled back suddenly and pulled England into a crushing hug. He struggled, but Scotland was holding him too tight for him to be able to do anything with his arms, and his indignant protests were muffled too. Nessie and Mint Bunny were finally distracted from their playing, and floated around the two, giggling, infuriating England more.

Once he was free, he spluttered various curses before managing to formulate a complete sentence. "_What the bloody hell was that for, you whiskey soaked git?!"_

Scotland shrugged. "France told me tae give you a hug."

"_Oh? Since when do you do what France tells you to do?"_

"I didn't do it because he told me tae, he gave me tha idea. I did it because your face is fucking _priceless_."

Knowing he had outstayed his welcome, as soon as he said this he grabbed his mobile and took off out of the front door, Nessie following behind him, leaving England almost screaming expletives at both him and France.

* * *

That had been unpleasant. Needless to say, the Chancellor had not taken it well, but at least it was done now, and his headache was subsiding slightly. That left only the matter of organising an emergency World Meeting.

He groaned at the very thought of more than two hundred nations all in one room. If a G8 meeting was bad, this was hell. _Gott_, it was a World Meeting five years ago that led to reenforced glass being installed in the windows of each world conference building across the globe. To be honest, it was a miracle that people had only started noticing them now.

First issue to be decided: where the hell was it going to be? It had to be secure, ideally have a world building in a more remote location, be physically able to organise such a large event at short notice, and not too out of the way for a lot of nations, due to its sudden organisation. America? Secure, but the world buildings there were in large cities. They needed to keep a low profile.

_A low profile_.

China could host such a meeting, had a more remote world building, and although he didn't agree with it personally, the state control of the internet there would mean that even if someone with a smartphone or camera started taking pictures, they very likely wouldn't end up on the wider internet and that forum.

He scrolled through his contacts, reaching China's number. He pressed the call button.

...

"_Ni hao?"_

"China, it's Germany."

_"Why are you calling at this time of night-aru? It had better be important."_

"Something important has come up, and we need to organise an emergency world meeting. I was hoping you could host it."

_"...an emergency meeting? Sure, I can host, but what the hell have you done this time to warrent such a meeting?"_

Germany sighed and held his face in his free hand, his headache threatening to come back with a vengeance. "...There's been a collection of photos and drawings of us throughout various points in history found on the internet."

Silence on the other end.

_"...oh for fucks sake, what did I tell everyone? Can't you just close it down, trace those who have been uploading and be done with it-aru?"_

"Not without international agreement and approval, for which we need the meeting."

The sigh came from the other end this time. _"Okay, when?"_

"As soon as its possible."

_"...Give me a day or so. Let's say... Monday, 12 PM, local time. Is that alright?"_

"Perfect. Can we use the world building in Sichuan province? It's more remote, and that's what we need right now."

_"Yes, that's fine. I'm guessing you'll be telling everyone?"_

"_Ja_, that's right"

_"Good luck with that-aru."_

-Click-

...Now to send out two hundred plus texts and emails...

* * *

**Scotland. Scotland, Scotland, Scotland. You are far too much fun to write. I**** have decided that I must sneak in a drunk Scotland into this story at some point. XD**

**Also, did you see what I did there? I'm sending them all to China. I said he would show up soon. :P**

**I never expected so many people to be reading this. I've become somewhat addicted to the stats page. If you have anything to say or any tips for me, feel free! ;)**


	6. Untold truths and deeper trouble

***flails on the floor* I don't own Hetalia. *flails some more***

* * *

America had finally gotten home after the flight, only to be greeted by Tony playing Call of Duty on the couch, popcorn strewn across the room and soda spills on the wood floor. And by greeted, what was meant was that he got a torrent of swearing, directed at both the screen and himself due to the fact that Tony had been killed in the game.

The mess was not unlike what he himself had made in the past during his gaming sessions, but mess meant meant cleaning, something to be avoided at all costs. "Tony, dude, not cool! Warn me before ya decide to trash my place!" He picked up a couch cushion that had been thrown across the room and threw it at Tony, causing him to die again and to start swearing with renewed vigour.

America decided to leave Tony to the game and mess, grabbing his laptop and heading for his bedroom, away from the continued cursing and gunfire from the game.

He booted it up, as he grabbed the phone and dialed the number for the Oval Office. Lying on the bed, he didn't give who ever had picked it up a chance a chance to speak before he almost shouted into the phone.

"Yo, it's Alfred!"

_"...oh, hi, Alfred. The President isn't here at the moment; can I pass on a message or get someone else?"_

It was one of the President's secretaries, who all knew him as Alfred F. Jones, the somewhat mysterious and stereotypically American government agent. They were used to his frequent calls and visits to the White House, and he was often the choice of topic amongst them, though they had all signed documents to stop them from talking about him outside of those closest to the president.

"If you could patch me through to the CIA, that'd be awesome, but also tell the President to call me back as soon as possible. It's serious."

_"Okay, sure thing Alfred."_

There was a click as he was reconnected, before a new voice spoke up on the other end. _"Hello Alfred, what the hell's happened now?"_

"Yeah, you know those photos of me collapsing after JFK was shot? One's turned up on the net, along with a buttload of other photos of me and the other nations."

_"...Great, just what we needed... What was the website?"_

America read out the details on the slip that he still had from the meeting, while typing the url into the web browser on his laptop.

_"I'll get some guys on it, but all the guys I've got cleared to work on stuff involving Nations are otherwise occupied at the moment."_

"Can't you just get someone else on their stuff, and get them on this?"

_"...I can't pull them out, but I suppose I've got a couple of agents that deserve a promotion..."_

"...can I be there as you tell them? I wanna do that thing where I step out of the shadows and I'm totally awesome."

The person on the other end of the phone sighed._ "You can be there I guess, but no freaking them out."_

America silently fist-pumped. "Usual place?"

_"Yeah, couple of hours time?"_

"I'll be there!"

-CLICK-

Two hours. Enough time to grab a shower, change, get Tony to clean up his mess, and take a look at this website for himself.

The forum had loaded, and he had been scrolling through it as he was on the phone, finding the precise thread. It wasn't hard, as his bro had said, the thread was one of the most active on the site.

The slip had also pointed out three users, one who had created the thread and the original list, someone going by the username of Terra, and two others that were periodically adding to it, Judj and Aethr.

There was also a lot of other people, coming up with their own theories: Vampires, aliens, ghosts... Some were even writing short stories about them and the photos.

But one thing was apparent. The three main users were running the show, and although they didn't add to the discussion often, when they did they were scarily close to the truth, leading the others. Terra had added in the last hour: "Have you noticed that there seems to be one for each country?", starting a flurry of discussion.

They were getting dangerously close.

A short story about him and England caught his eye, causing America to shut the laptop and try to forcibly wipe it from his memory.

He might go get that shower now.

* * *

Scotland couldn't face the journey home, especially when he would be going to that emergency meeting soon, and as a result had booked into a hotel nearby. There, he had taken on the task of calling the rest of the "clan": Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland. Unsurprisingly, they hadn't taken it well, though he had gotten quite a few snickers of laughter while recounting what had happened during their meeting.

That reminded him, he should call France back.

_"Écosse, how did it go?"_

"Well, he told me tha news, and I gave him a hug."

_"It told you to make sure he doesn't retreat back into his shell, not traumatise him! ...What was his face like?"_

"Priceless, I think that if we aren't all fucked as a result of those photos, he might just turn us both into fruit flies."

France laughed somewhat nervously. _"Oui... Those photos are serious indeed, he may not need to bother..."_

"...Just what was it that caused you tae call me in the first place? Was it the photos? You could have told me yourself."

_"...It was the photos in a way. There was a diary excerpt there, from the end of English Civil war... Did you know he was imprisoned and likely tortured in the Tower of London?"_

Scotland's jovial expression completely disappeared for the second time that day. "...what. No, I didn't. Hell... I thought he was in hiding! God... Why tha hell didn't he tell me!"

_"That was what I said. As terrible as what he went through, it's not like we wouldn't have understood or thought any the less of him... It's not good for one person to keep such secrets for so long."_

"No, it's not. Thanks for telling me Francis."

_"No problem. See you at the meeting."_

God. That stubborn...

He needed a drink.

* * *

**...You do realise I will give you fluffy moments and then rip your heart out? C:**

**Eee, I love writing this and I love seeing your reviews. It's been an interesting week, and writing this has focused my daydreams and thoughts, if on the wrong things at times. XD**

**Also, yes, I made this story mildly self aware. XD**


	7. Rallying the troops

**AS I AM TYPING THIS I HAVE JUST WATCHED DOCTOR WHO 50TH ANNIVERSARY AND JESUS ON A POGO STICK.**

**ALSO I DONT OWN HETALIA**

* * *

Germany had finally gotten to the last twenty or so on the list to contact about the emergency meeting. He had included the micronations and provinces due to the reason for this meeting, though some wouldn't be too pleased about this. Ugh. He thought about the sheer numbers that would be there again, all bickering and arguing. It was all so pointless in the end...

It was at that moment that his phone decided to ring. Sighing, he stood up and picked it up, taking a moment to check who was calling. Feliciano... He smiled; he was so happy and energetic, he never failed to draw him out of those thoughts of his, even if he wasn't the brightest of people. He frowned for a split second as he realised the phone was still ringing and that he hadn't answered it yet.

"_Hallo_ Italy, how can I help?"

_"Germany!~"_ There was a pause, and when he continued, it was much more sullen._ "Germany, I... I've been thinking... Did you see the photos of my sketches at the meeting?"_

"_Ja_, I caught a glimpse. What about them?"

_"Oh, Ludwig, I lost them and it was my fault and someone else has them and they've put us all in danger and they were my favourites and I want them back..."_ Italy had started sobbing on the other end of the phone. ...These photos had gotten to even Italy in some way...

"Feli... I... They haven't put us in danger. Don't worry, we'll sort this out..."

Italy continued sobbing, albeit more softly. _"...I just want them back..."_

"... I have an idea. Those photos were uploaded by mostly the same few users, and if they had photos of your sketches, they may as well have the originals. When this is done, we'll try and find your sketches."

Italy's sobs had subsided upon hearing this, though there was still intermittent sniffs. _"...Promise?"_

"Promise."

_"Ve~, Grazie, Ludwig! Grazie, grazie, grazie!"_

...and just like that he had hung up. He just needed reassurance every now and again, and off he went, like it had never happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He looked up to see a rather more rested Prussia, one of those enigmatic chicks already perched on his shoulder. At first he looked like he was going to say something, but it turned into a large yawn.

Perhaps he could hold a conversation now.

"Bruder, is everything alright?"

"_Ja, ja_, everything's awesome, just stayed up too late last night on the Xbox."

Germany sighed. At least there was a mundane explanation for his condition. "Don't make me put a password on that too. We may not need much sleep as nations but we still need some. Your sleeping is getting ridiculous."

"Don't lecture me again, West." Prussia paused to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. "You said something about photos on the internet?"

"_Ja_, people have found photos of us though various points of history and have uploaded them to a forum. I'm nearly done organising an emergency meeting."

"..._Scheiße_. Where's it going to be?"

"China, Sichuan building. I've already booked a flight."

Prussia groaned. "...just what I didn't need... Wait, were there any photos of me?"

"A few. One at the Berlin Wall, another during the Weimar republic, that sort of thing."

"Ugh, just organise that meeting, get it over with. I need a snack."

He wandered off in the direction of the fridge, leaving Germany with the last of the list to go through. "...last ones, and then bed..."

* * *

America was greeted inside by the suited figure of the head of the CIA. "Alfred, remember what I said, no freaking them out, and if you say the word 'hero' at any point you get kicked out. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, sheesh." He rolled his eyes, and then the two of them went inside the room.

The two agents' eyes widened when they saw the two walk in. They both stood up, but before they could say anything their superior waved for them to sit down again. "Agents Ramirez, McCoy, do you know why you are here?"

"No, sir" they chorused.

"Don't worry, it's not for a bad reason. In fact, I'm giving you both a promotion, as of now."

They were both speechless for a moment, before the brunette Agent McCoy found her voice. "A promotion...? Sir, I'm... We're both honored, but why the short notice?"

"Because you've more than proved yourselves in recent missions, and what you're about to be told is top secret, for reasons of global security."

He sat down at the desk in the room, taking some documents out of the drawer. America, who until now had been stood in the more shaded part of the room, stepped into the light a bit more.

He handed the documents to them, staying silent as they went flicked them. They stopped when they came across a photo, matching the figure who been silent until now, stood to the side of the room.

"Why... What?"

America saw his moment to come in. "I'm Alfred F Jones, and I'm also-"

His dramatic moment was interrupted by a cough from the direction of the head of the CIA. He paused for a moment to glare at him, before continuing. "...and I'm also the personification of the United States of America."

Blank stares. "What."

"...I'm a Nation. I look 19, but I'm really hundreds of years old, and I represent the people of this awesome country."

"You're... America? How does that work?" Agent Ramirez was incredulous, not wanting to believe that the head of the CIA would pull a prank like this, but right now, he thought that was the only explanation.

"Heh, the lame answer is we don't know. Don't know how we're born, don't know why we exist. What we do know is that nations are tied to what happens to their country and people. 2008 financial crisis? I was stuck in bed for ages with flu. ...9/11? I felt it happen, every moment..."

"...Alfred... are you alright?" The head of the CIA put a hand on his arm, concerned.

He focused back on his surroundings. "...uh, yeah. Got two scars all the way down my back from then."

What doubt that the two agents had harboured had melted away. "Er... You must have seen so many things. Hundreds of years..." McCoy shook her head. "So, does every country have a Nation?"

"Pretty much, there's one or two exceptions. There's actually a few countries with more than one nation, Italy is split into north and south, Germany is split into east and west, that kind of thing."

"Can you guys do anything special? Like, superpowers?" McCoy looked facinated.

"Er... We can speak some sort of universal language that anyone can understand, we heal really fast, and unless our nations are severely weakened we're pretty much immortal."

Ramirez still couldn't believe what he was hearing. "...why are you telling us this? Why are you all a secret in the first place!?"

"If the world knew about us, we'd be in danger. Everyone around us would be in danger. We... we don't ask to be what we are. And that's why we need you guys. There's a ton of pictures out there on the internet of us, and they're starting to figure it out. Are you on board?"

* * *

England had called the prime minister to break the news once he had calmed down, and it hadn't gone particularly well. Soon after, he had gotten the text from Germany, and had booked a flight to Sichuan, though the thought that Sealand might be there didn't sit well with him. He was about finally to go to bed when he got an email through from Ireland.

It was one line long. Never a good sign.

"_You might want to go pick up the idiot, he's not far from you."_

There was an attachment too, a screen shot of a tweet. Who it was from was unimportant, what mattered was the content.

"Guy in white oak pub totally drunk and claiming to BE scotland #hilarious"

...Oh for fucks sake.

* * *

**Chapter seven done! It may seem things are going off on a slight tangent, but this sets things up, and things will pick up soon, with vengeance. XD**

**NEXT TIME: DRUNK SCOTLAND AND SERIOUS AND NOT SO SERIOUS HAPPENINGS WOOP WOOP.**


	8. Caught red handed and off guard

**Hetalia. If I owned it, I would give all you guys cute fluffy moments.**

**And then kill everyone off.**

**Good thing I don't then.**

* * *

There was raucous laughter inside the pub, as the redheaded man finished another joke. The bar staff were cautiously watching him, ready to move in if things got out of hand, but so far all he had done was entertain the other customers with his rambling and somewhat bizarre stories and jokes.

People in the pub had been tweeting and posting, texting and calling about the strange man claiming to _be_ Scotland. He talked and acted the part, his accent getting a little more indecipherable with each drink. He answered each question without hesitation; if it was a lie, he had practiced it.

It was at this moment that a man with messy blond hair, large eyebrows and a noticeable resemblance to the enigmatic scot walked in at the back of the crowd.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" England shoved his way through, confronting his wayward brother at the bar.

"Englund, their yoo are! Meet mah frends!" He gestured broadly to the crowd, to a loud cheer. Shit, England had to get him out, now.

"Eng... England? What the hell are you going on about, Stuart? How much have you had to drink?"

"Noo, don't play dumb wit me. Sumbuddy git mah brother Englund a drink!"

"My name's Harry, you git, and your name's Stuart. Lets get you home, you've obviously completely lost it this time."

There was boos and heckles as England moved to lead him out of the pub, with one from the crowd shouting a last minute question: "What does a Scotsman wear under his kilt?!"

"I can demonsterate-" Before he could get any further or try anything, Scotland was dragged outside to where England's car had been parked. He drunkenly tried to resist, with little success. "Why'd yoo dae that? What aboot mah frends?"

""Have you completely lost it?! We're supposed to be lying low! And you go off getting pissed out of your senses and telling everyone!"

"...can't even hav any fun noo accordin tae Englund... Fuckin... Fuck."

Scotland had fallen into drunken mumblings as he was hauled into the passenger seat and buckled in. As England climbed into the drivers side, his incapacitated brother started rambling again, his accent not helped by the slurring. "Iain, shut up for a moment, will you?"

"No, I will not! Youre not takin me back tae your hoose, I've gotta hotel room..."

"...Fine, where is it?"

He mumbled something which England just about made out, but before they could go, there was a tapping on the driver window.

England's head snapped round. It was dark despite the street lighting, and he couldn't quite make out what the person looked like. Hesitantly, he wound the window down. "...Can I help you?"

"Interesting chap, your brother. Interesting stories too."

"He's had far too much to drink, he comes up with ridiculous stories while he's like this. Pay no attention to him."

"You see, they really were quite creative. Fairies, brothers and hundreds of years... Did he study history?"

"He loves reading about those things, not that he'll admit it." This cued some drunken rambling again. "I really ought to get him to bed-"

"Although, where he got the idea that he was Scotland and you were England from is a mystery, isn't it Arthur?"

England froze. "Did... You must have misheard me in the pub, my name's Harry."

"So it is. Farewell."

And with that, the mysterious stranger had vanished into the backstreets, leaving behind a stunned and panicked England.

* * *

It was the morning after, and England had shoved Scotland into the bathroom of his hotel room, the intention being to force him to have a wash and wake up a bit in the process, but the clatters and clangs coming from inside made him wince.

He had dropped him off here last night before going home, and as soon as he had had breakfast and gotten dressed he had come back to see what state his brother was in, and to hammer into his head exactly how much of an idiot he was.

Nessie was curled up on the pillow, glancing over occasionally in the direction of the bathroom when a particularly loud crash was heard. This waiting gave him a chance to contemplate the strange encounter last night.

He had known his name! And he had casually mentioned it, almost mockingly. Whoever he was, he knew about them, and felt confident enough to make it clear. He cursed the fact he didn't see his face, he wouldn't be surprised if he was one of the people who had compiled the photos. One thing was for sure: they were in bigger danger than they had thought.

Scotland staggered out of the bathroom, fully dressed thankfully. "Do you feel any better?" England asked.

"I feel less grimy, for sure. Did nothin for my head though."

"I'm not surprised, with the amount you drank last night. What the fuck were you thinking?! You saw that man, he knew my name! You might have just put us all in grave danger with your daft drinking adventures."

"..."

"I thought so. Why did you even do it in the first place?"

"... you didn't tell me."

"...what? What are you going on about now?"

"The tower."

"...oh."

"You were tortured and you didn't tell anyone."

"This isn't the time-"

"Fuck it, when is it the time with you? You never talk..."

"..."

"..."

"...What was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know, but somethin. Maybe if you had told me sooner, I could have found them and given them a tiny piece of what they deserved."

"...Look, I'm sorry."

"...So am I."

There was a long awkward silence, punctuated only by the slight snoring of Nessie, before England spoke again.

"...This doesn't change what happened last night. We're in danger, and we need to tell the others."

* * *

France had packed for the emergency meeting, and was using this spare time to spend a little time amongst the Sunday morning crowds in Paris. It was indescribable almost, being amongst the people who sustained his existence by simply calling themselves French. He could feel snippets of emotions, of who they were, of their lives.

There were two tourists having trouble with a map, so he went over to help them, giving them directions and a few tips for the rest of their holiday. Cheerfully, they thanked him and went on their way, leaving him alone with the crowd again.

He was about to head to one of his favourite spots when another tourist stopped him, a brunette woman with her long hair tied in a ponytail, and when she spoke, her accent was american. "Excuse me, I saw you help those tourists, and I was wondering if you could help me too."

France smiled that smile he always did in these circumstances. "Of course, what with _mademoiselle_?"

She smiled wryly, something that never failed to grab his attention. "Who are you?"

"Who do you want me to be? _Honhonhon_~"

"One of the people I'm looking for. Is your name by any chance Francis?"

His smile dropped briefly before he regained his composure. "...Perhaps it is. What makes you think that?"

"Oh, I've heard stories about you. They say that if you want to know about France, you're the man to go to."

"...stories? I'm flattered to have such a reputation, but who told you such stories?"

"Just hearsay."

"...you really are quite enigmatic, aren't you? Such vague answers..."

""As are you, Francis Bonnefoy." She reached up and toyed with the hairband holding the ponytail together.

"...What are yo-

* * *

**Don't worry, it's supposed to finish like that. :3**

**Mwahahaha, I'm evil. Stuff gets SERIOUS WITH A VENGEANCE as promised.**

**Also, so many people reading! I'm typing this Monday night, one week after first uploading this, and so many people. :3**

**Love hearing from you, feel free to review ~**

(PS, for those who don't know what a true Scotsman wears under his kilt, the answer is absolutely bugger all.)


	9. That sinking feeling and growing dread

**myahahahahahaha**

**I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

When France came to, the first thing that he noticed was the cold. He was wearing nothing, but there was something over him, covering his face as well. Dim light filtered through, and he could hear a soft murmuring a small distance away, as well as the sound of typing.

When he tried to move, pain shot through his body, bones protesting and stiff, as well as a blinding pain blooming in his head. He groaned, causing the quiet noises from the other end of the room to cease, replaced with the sound of something being dropped and footsteps.

The sheet over his face was pulled back, and the white light overhead was a shock.

France managed to turn his head, taking in the surroundings and the stranger, a scared looking young man dressed in medical clothing, who at this moment decided to faint.

Now that the only other presence in the room was unconscious, he could focus on where he exactly was. Something clicked... This was a morgue.

Why... why was he in a morgue? What did he last remember? ...That beautiful and mysterious woman... She had known his name, but what had happened after that? He must have been seriously injured in some way, causing his body to shut down to heal...

He tried to get up, still stiff, and walked round the man slumped to the floor to the computer, hoping what he had been typing would shed some light on what had happened.

_Name of Deceased: Unknown, possibly Francis Bonnefoy_

_Gender: Male_

_Age: Unknown_

_Cause of death: Bullet wound to the head, no other injuries present_

A bullet... Of course. She was the distraction, the toying with her hairband a signal to the sniper waiting above. He had let his guard down, and they had found him.

And now he was here. He touched his forehead, feeling the blood that had dried. He needed to get out, before someone else found out the 'dead' had risen.

* * *

England had called Germany soon afterwards about their encounter with the mysterious man who had known his name. He had kept the details of Scotland's pub adventure quiet: it was stupid of him, but nothing would come from getting his brother in further trouble. Germany had promised to tell everyone of this further development, but England had said he would call France himself. They needed to talk.

He was just about to, when the TV in the background caught his attention. "_...and some further details on the Paris shooting just in, police have released more information on what happened this morning. The victim, who has not been formally identified, is believed to have been shot by a sniper from a nearby building, and was the sole casualty. The shooting took place in front of many witnesses, and the victim has been described as a blond male, with shoulder length hair and stubble. No suspects have been identified as of yet. More on this story as it develops."_

...the person that was described sounded worryingly like France.

With a slight urgency, England dialed France's number.

"Francis? You there?"

_"... No, I'm sorry, this isn't. Are you family or a friend?"_

Shit. Ohshitohshitohshit. "I'm... A friend. Is everything alright? Who am I speaking to?

_"I work for the French National Police. Can ask what your name is?"_

"...Arthur Kirkland. What's happened to Francis?"

_"...I'm sorry, he was shot and killed this morning in Paris. Can you just confirm what your friends name was?"_

"Francis Bonnefoy. ...this is a matter of global security, I need someone I can trust with such matters, now."

_"...Okay." _There was silence for a moment, before someone else spoke. "_This is Gabriel Barrand, head of the investigation into your friends death. What do you mean about global security?"_

* * *

France had salvaged his trousers, but his shirt was soaked in his own blood and unwearable. His hair and face too were covered in blood, and he had had to wash it off in a nearby sink. Tying his hair back with a hair band he had in his pocket, he stole the zip-up jacket that was hung up in an adjoining locker room that perhaps belonged to the still unconscious man, and set off into the empty corridor.

He wandered through the almost deserted corridors, looking for signs, darting behind corners when someone went by. As far as he could tell, this wasn't a hospital, and this was confirmed when he saw a logo for the French police. He hid again, as two officers went by talking about what he assumed was his shooting.

He climbed some stairs, and the floor above was much busier. He was surprised no one had noticed him yet, perhaps he should have a word with someone about security afterwards, but right now he was thankful. He was about to go through another corridor when someone entered an office a little way away from him, holding the door open. "Sir... The body from the morgue has vanished."

"...What? What do you mean vanished?!"

"...The mortician swears that the corpse came back to life."

"That's absurd-"

He crept closer, seeing that the man was holding a mobile, his mobile to be precise, and he appeared to be talking to someone on it.

"You keep going on about global security, but I want to know what the hell is going on! Someone has been shot, and now that person has apparently walked out of the morgue! Who the hell are you _Monsieur_ Kirkland? Who the hell is Francis Bonnefoy?"

Arthur? He supposed there was no better time for this and no other sensible way out of here. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy." He gently pushed his way past the messenger, shutting the door on him, and grabbed the phone from the man. "Arthur, don't worry, I'm fine."

_"Francis? Thank god! What the hell happened?"_

"I was shot. A woman posed as a tourist to distract me so the sniper could get a clear hit. She knew-"

"What the hell is going on? You were dead!-"

"Shut up, don't make me call the President after this. As I was saying, she knew my name."

_"...We're all in grave danger. Last night, someone stopped me and Iain and they knew my name as well, and now you've been shot. Let me call Germany; you can call your boss."_

"Sounds good. Stay safe, Arthur."

He hung up, and the head of the police took this as a sign to start babbling again. "You were a corpse! How the hell are you alive? Who are you? Is... Is that blood?-"

"Please, be quiet. I'm... The President will explain."

This seemed to have silenced him, questions no doubt echoing in his head. He dialled the new number on his mobile, and was thankful when he heard the voice on the other end. _"Bonjour Francis, what is it you need?"_

"I've no doubt you've heard about the shooting this morning. Unfortunately, I was the victim."

_"...ah."_

"_Oui,_ and now I'm in the office of the man in charge of my murder investigation and he wants answers."

_"...Okay, put him on the phone."_

He passed the mobile to the man. "The President wants to speak to you."

He looked scared, but he accepted it. "..._Bonjour? ...oui... ..._Gabriel Barrand_... ...C'est impossible... Oui... ...au revoir_..." He handed the phone back.

_"I told him about you and that he needs to wrap up the investigation, something that we'll help him with. We'll take care of things, but you need to lie low."_

"I was going to anyway... Any recommendations on what I should do?"

_"Talk to the man, his name's Gabriel Barrand by the way, and answer his questions. He'll help you."_

"Okay, understood. _Au revoir_."

He turned to Gabriel, who looked more than a little shaken. "You're... France? How? What...?"

"..._oui_. I'm what's known as a nation, and almost every country in the world has one. Our lives are tied to our people and countries, and we're essentially immortal, hence that fact that I've 'risen from the dead'"

"I... Wow... How old are you?"

"Hmm, I've lost track. Hundreds of years old, at least."

"...Why were you shot? Who wants you dead?"

"Recently, a collection of photos of us was posted to the internet. People are finding out about us, and what we've always feared is starting to happen. Some people, they want revenge, for things that were hundreds of years ago and out of our control." France sighed. " We're as much the pawns of fate as any other person... Sometimes I wish I was just 'any other person'..."

He closed his eyes, sighing again, imagining.

"I need to hide until my flight to an emergency meeting with the other nations, can you help me? And, maybe you could get me a new shirt? The mortician probably wants this jacket back."

* * *

America had woken up the way he usually did when he wasn't needed in the morning: late, and only as a result of outside interference. The interference in this case was the phone, ringing persistently. Groaning, he hauled himself out of bed and answered it. "H...hello? Who's... -yawn- ...calling?"

"Alfred, it's the head of the CIA, we have a problem."

* * *

**SERIOUS WITH A VENGENCE**

**MYAHAHAHAHA **

**IM EVIL**

**DAMN AM I LOVING WRITING THIS AND TORTURING YOU IN THE PROCESS.**

***SHIMMIES OUT***


	10. The point of no return?

**Ready for some more? Are you sitting comfortably? I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

_"Alfred, it's head of the CIA, we have a problem."_

"Wha... What? What's happened?"

_"Remember those agents you met? Agent McCoy? The McCoy you met was an impostor, the real one has been found tied up in an abandoned warehouse. The imposter has since vanished with the file on nations, to an unknown location."_

"...Is the real McCoy alright?"

_"She's shaken, but otherwise unharmed. She says she was abducted after she was told to attend the meeting by a group of masked people who waited for her to come home. We think that whoever they were, they intercepted internal encrypted emails containing information about the meeting and Agent McCoy."_

"They intercepted emails... From the CIA?"

"_Yes, yes, I know. Whoever they are, we're looking at highly sophisticated cybercriminals, quite likely those at the heart of the leak on the forum. These people are intent on revealing the existence of the nations to the wider world."_

"...shit."

_"You got that right."_

"Mind if I tell Germany about this? He's the one contacting everyone about the latest developments."

_"Not at all, it's in everyone's interest. Oh, and one other thing, we've been doing some digging on those three users. Aethr seems to be American, Terra is apparently British and Judj is Russian. People are getting too close, we've been trying to steer them away from the truth, but we aren't winning."_

"Okay, thanks for telling me."

He hung up, thinking about what he had just been told. The false McCoy had been fascinated by the file, but thinking back, she didn't seem all that surprised, like she had been acting. He supposed she was in the end, but how she had managed to fool the CIA into thinking she was someone she wasn't was astonishing.

He went downstairs, grabbing something for breakfast, and was munching it as he turned on the TV. It was on the news, and the story they were covering at the moment was a shooting in Paris...

"_Police have issued an image of a person they want to speak to in connection with the recent shooting in Paris. The image is of a young woman, possibly 25-30 years old, with long brown hair, which was tied in a ponytail at the time of the shooting. She was last seen talking to the victim, just before he was shot. The victim has still not been identified, and police say they have no leads on his identity. We'll bring the latest to you as it comes in."_

The image of the woman on the screen... It was the fake McCoy.

* * *

Canada had kept up to date with the website ever since he had got home, and had been watching things develop. Right now, he was going through the thread yet again, curled up on the bed like had been when he had first found it. They had been getting close, but now they might have just figured it all out, as one had posted: _They seem to be present at key events affecting their respective countries, and some on the diaries mention them being symbols of legitimacy, power and nationality. Maybe they represent countries, like living nations?_

This idea had caught on like wildfire. It explained everything as far as they were concerned, and they were right. ...Perhaps they were too late after all.

This theory had also sparked debate, and it made him feel dizzy and sick. They were discussing, in the event of the strange people being living nations, whether they were guilty of crimes committed by countries. ...Germany's name was mentioned a lot...

They may have fought on different sides, but Canada knew what position Germany had been in during that time. They represented the people, first and foremost, and the feelings of their people leeched into their hearts. ...Germany had been scared, though that fear had been buried out of necessity.

Canada shook his head. They always got swept along while people made the decisions controlling their fate. He knew vaguely of what had happened to France during the revolution; he had been imprisoned for a time, and they had even tried to execute him at one point, which had failed. Whenever revolution or civil war came, they were caught in the crossfire.

What was the analogy Francis had made a long time ago...? ...like in chess, they were the kings. The game rested on them, and if they were captured it was the end of the game, but they could do very little themselves, little more than pawns. Hell, a pawn could become a queen in certain circumstances, but they had no way out.

...something caught his eye. _: I think some of the diary entries mention them being captured and tortured, as well as suffering injuries due to turmoil in their countries. Wouldn't trying them for the crimes of their government or army be like trying every one of their citizens? Or at least trying an innocent person for something they had no control over? They don't sound like the invisible masterminds some of you seem to think they are._

..perhaps they were too late, but also perhaps there was a glimmer of hope.

* * *

The phone rang again, capturing his attention from the news channel. He picked it up from where he had left it and answered it.

_"Alfred? Is everything alright over there?"_

Iggy. Why was he calling... Unless what he had feared had happened. "Yeah, things... Well, something's happened."

_"...what kind of something? Are you okay?"_

"I'm fine Artie, but a CIA agent that was told about the existence of nations turned out to be an impostor, and now she's on the run with the file on us."

_"...shit."_

"That's what I said. What's got you so worried that had to call to check on me? It's not like that I can't handle things myself."

_"See the news about that shooting in Paris? The person who was shot was France."_

"...I kinda had a feeling that was what you were gonna say. Is he alright?"

_"Yes, he's fine, I spoke to him. He woke up in a morgue, but he's otherwise fine now."_

"...You know, I don't think I've ever looked forward to a world meeting so much in my life."

_"I know what you mean. Last night Iain decided to go drinking and got so pissed he started telling everyone about us. I doubt many believed him, but after I dragged him out, some man stopped us. ...I'm convinced he was taunting us, he just casually dropped my name into the conversation… France said the woman who distracted him knew his name too. They may have gotten hold of that file you mentioned... What exactly was in it?"_

"Basic info on nations, some more detailed info on me. I'm not totally sure what was in it, but I definitely told them my full name."

_"...We may be too late to stop this from coming out, and now we've got a group tracking us down, a group that's already shot France... Be careful, Alfred."_

"I'll try. Bye, Artie."

* * *

Careful wasn't a word that would be applied to Italy. Currently, he was wandering through his streets, enthusiastically greeting locals and tourists alike. He hadn't picked up his mobile, nor checked his emails or seen the news, and was completely unaware of what had happened to France. Perhaps if he had, he wouldn't have been so cheerful.

He stopped when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned, to see a young woman standing there, bag over her shoulder and sunglasses on her head. "Hey, you seem to be well known round here, what's your name?"

"Huh? Ciao! My name's Feliciano! Are you a tourist? I can give you some great tips for places to see!"

"Actually, I need you to answer some questions about something." She took a collection of papers out of her bag. "Do you know any of the people in these drawings?"

People passed by, paying no attention as Italy examined the drawings.

"...Those are my drawings! How... What... Who are you?"

"That's none of your concern. I suggest you answer the question."

"...Those are my friends... Where are my real sketches, please?!"

"Safe. I might give them back if you tell me your full name and the names of the people in the drawings."

"...I... I don't know their names."

"You don't? How are they your friends if you don't know their names?"

"..." Tears began to well up in Italy's eyes.

"I do hope you're not lying. You can at least tell me your full name, or no sketches."

"...Feliciano Vargas. Please, where are they?"

"Ah-ah, not just yet. What exactly are you?"

"...I can't..."

"You can't? A shame. No sketches then."

"Wait! Please! I'm... I'm Italia Veneziano."

"...Veneziano? ...North Italy then?"

"...sì."

"What relation is Italy Romano to you?"

"...He's my fratello..."

"What's his name?"

"...Lovino Vargas. Please-"

"Two more questions. Did the Roman Empire have a nation?"

"Sì, Roma was my nonno..."

"Last one. Who is the young nation here, dressed in the hat and cloak?"

"That's... Holy Rome. Please, I want them back!"

"Hmm? I only said I _might_ give them back."

Tear filled eyes hardened, and anger flashed across Italy's face. "But... That's not fair!"

There was an ugly smirk on her face. "Life isn't fair. I thought you would have learnt that in more than a thousand years. You've been a great help."

As she turned away, Italy looked around, noticing a broom propped up against a nearby wall. He grabbed it, a strange fury gripping him, and he lunged at her with it, hitting her.

She fell to the ground with a cry. People who had not noticed the exchange between the two now stopped and stared, locals wondering what had happened to the normally happy man to cause him to strike someone.

He held out the broom like a sword, pointing it at her. "Where are they? Who are you? Why are you after us? I've got questions of my own!"

She looked back at him, still smirking. "Too bad you won't hear the answers."

A shot rang out in the plaza.

* * *

**STUFF**

**GETS**

**SERIOUS**

**MYAHAHAHAHA**

**I love writing this. I have so many plans... :3**

**Yes, her name was foreshadowing. XD Hehehehe, keep guessing at what might happen, you might get it right. Try and not spoil others through reviews, though. ;)**

**Hope you are enjoying this, I certainly am. :D**


	11. Trying to get some answers

**I'm busy with studying and writing this. I don't have time to own Hetalia.**

* * *

A shot rang out in the plaza, as did a cry.

The gun in the woman's hand was sent skidding across the ground, as the people who had gathered around were scattered, looking for cover.

…Italy opened his eyes, seeing the woman clutching her hand, blood seeping through her fingers. He snapped out of his daze, and ran to pick up the gun. Somewhat unsteadily, he pointed it at the woman who had interrogated him, who was still nursing her injury on the floor, glaring at him, and also at something behind him.

"Chigi, you owe me, big time."

Italy turned, gun still pointing at her. Sure enough, there stood Romano, a gun in his hand. "_Fratello! Dio mio, grazie_! She-"

"Yeah, I saw! What the fuck were you thinking, as if she would give you the damn sketches back just like that! You fucking _told_ her!"

The woman attempted to get up and run from the pair, but Romano noticed, firing again, this time hitting her leg. She cried out again, causing the people cowering behind corners and furniture to either look or hide again.

Romano came a little closer to Veneziano so he could talk without the rest of the scattered crowd hearing, still watching the woman. "Didn't you fucking hear what happened to France? He got shot, in the same way as you nearly did, and that woman was involved. We're all in danger."

Italy eyes widened, tears falling. "...Big brother France? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, but only after spending time in the fucking morgue. You nearly went there yourself."

Sirens started to come closer, and the sources of the eventually came into view. Italy still shakily pointed the gun at her, as if the gun would save him no matter what happened.

One of the police ran up to them. "What the hell is going on? Put the guns down!"

"Nu-uh, she was going to shoot my brother, and she's the person from that Paris shooting they want to talk to. Hell, I'd love to talk to her, the bitch."

"It's true, she made me answer questions and she has my sketches! She wants to hurt all of us!"

The officer called over the rest of those who had arrived. They consulted each other briefly, before moving over to put handcuffs on the woman. "You're under arrest for attempted murder and the murder in Paris."

She was led away, limping and shouting manically about nations. The officer from before came over to them when she was in the car. "Can you come with us? We need a statement about what actually went on."

* * *

Germany had by default become the one informing everyone of the latest developments, and for the first time since the discovery, he had no new news. As such, he was sat on the sofa, drinking a beer and making the most of the respite.

After all, it wouldn't last for long, if the ringing of the phone was any sign.

Groaning, he hauled himself up again and picked up the phone.

"_Hallo_, who is it?"

"Germany! Germany! I ran into that woman and she had my sketches and she made me answer questions about them and she nearly shot me but Romano saved me and we caught her!"

"...You caught her?!"

"_Sì_, we did!~ She's been arrested now!"

"I... Excellent! Maybe we can get some answers now!"

"Ve~ I know! And now I might find out where my sketches are and get them back and we'll all be safer!"

"...I'll tell everyone the good news. Bye Italy."

"Bye Ludwig, see you at the meeting!"

...Who would have thought it would be Italy and Romano to capture her? It was welcome news indeed, but he severely doubted that it was over just yet. The photos were still out there, unable to be removed just yet, and there were still at _least_ two others out there who had also been part of the leak.

...Canada had rang earlier about how the people on the forum had pretty much figured it all out. He had taken a look for himself, and simply thinking back to it made him pale. There was no denying it, they had a problem. ...Could they really deny their own existence any longer?

So much for respite.

* * *

Romano and Italy listened to the interrogation. Romano in particular wanted to interrogate her himself, but they wouldn't let them in the room with her, let alone go along with Romano's interrogation tactics. Their flight to the meeting wasn't far away, and they needed some sleep as well before setting off, but they still had some time for this.

The woman was defiant and vocal about it, appealing constantly to the guards present to release her, repeating her assertions about how the two brothers were immortal, that they were 'abominations'.

That was the word she used, and it hurt. Italy couldn't stop the small tears forming as he listened. Why was she so angry? So much _hatred_...

It even got to Romano, his expression softer than usual, his eyes distant. His scowl returned when her ranting was once again directed at them, this time even going as far as spitting at them from the other side of the glass. "Come on Feli... She's not gonna talk while we're here."

Italy blinked the tears from his eyes. "...yeah, okay."

The two of them walked away, leaving behind the pure venom of her words.

"...Fratello?"

"What is it?"

"Why were you there to save me?"

"...I heard about France, I figured I might as well make sure you had heard about it too. When you weren't in, I went looking nearby. Nothing more, got it?"

"...Thanks, Lovi."

"..."

The two brothers walked in amicable silence as they headed for Italy's house.

* * *

America strolled through the corridors he had walked down so many times towards the Oval Office. He knocked and entered, the President waiting for him at the desk. "Alfred, have a seat."

Once he had sat down, the President started. "It's my understanding that we have a serious breach of security at the CIA, involving you somehow. What exactly is going on?"

America shifted in his seat. "We think that there's a small bunch of guys that have found out about us somehow, and are hellbent on revealing our existence to everyone. They've posted a ton of stuff about us on the internet, and they've also gotten more info by hacking into and infiltrating the CIA. We've no clue what they actually want, but they've tracked down and shot France, and apparently the woman who infiltrated the CIA just tried to interrogate Italy and then shoot him too. She's been arrested now, we're all hoping we'll get some answers from her."

"I'll issue an alert. What are you and the others doing about this?"

"We've got an emergency meeting soon to talk about all of this, but we're also staying in contact with everyone else. Really, we're trying to keep our heads down, but it's hard when they find us anyway. If you count my meeting with the impostor, there's five of us now that have bumped into one of them at some point."

"Do you need extra protection? Anything you need, we'll get."

"Really, I'm fine. Now that we know their tactics, I can keep an eye out. And besides, I'm immortal, aren't I? How much could they do to me?"

"Alfred, you shouldn't think like that. We have no idea what they can do, we have no room for carelessness. Keep in mind that although you may be alright in the end, they might just kill others to get to you."

"...Okay, I'm sorry. But isn't that a reason not to have guards following me? I don't want people getting killed trying to protect me when I can look after myself."

"...if that's your wish, then we won't. Please, just be careful."

"I will, thanks. I've gotta get going now, I've got a plane to catch."

* * *

**And done. This took a little longer to write due to multiple things, one being that today was busy as hell. Two, I wasn't sure how to write Romano. I had thought about including him much earlier in the story, but I shied away from it because of that. I hope I didn't muck him up. Three, the reason I've been writing so fast is because I've preplanned a lot of the scenes, but here I kinda came up with on the spot because it felt right. Hoping it's okay. ;)**

**FINALLY**** GETTING NEAR THE MEETING HELL YEAH**

**ALSO EVERYONE'S FINE**

_(for now)_

**:3**


	12. For every answer, ten more questions

**This story has somewhat consumed my life. Damn, I love writing this.**

**I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

Sunrise in Tokyo: the morning sun filtered through and reflected off the skyscrapers, causing a city that didn't sleep so much as relax a little to liven up as people got ready for the new working week.

Japan himself was up too, watering the bonsai and feeding his pets before he had to leave for the meeting. Thanks to Germany, he had been kept up to date with every development, and he contemplated the situation as he went about his morning jobs. It was clear the people at the heart of it all were highly organised: hacking into America's CIA was no mean feat, as well as tracking down two nations in an attempt to gather information and shoot them. ...it would take more than three people to do that, surely?

The thought of a terrorist group tracking them all down for whatever reason they had caused him to pause in the middle of what he was doing.

Why were they doing this? They were trying to reveal their existence to the world, but why? Revenge? Religion? Because they could?

...they each had a connection to their people that sustained them, but what would happen if they all found out about them and turned against them?

He thought about Nikoniko. A small micronation, he and his people had collectively renounced their nationhood, and he had become human. However, the loss of the connection to his people had hit him hard, and he had been close to death at one point. If a small micronation had to go through that pain to become human, what hope did the larger nations have?

...and then there was Prussia-kun. He had gone through perhaps the most name changes of all of them. The Order of Saint Maria, The Teutonic Knights, The Kingdom of Prussia, East Germany... Each must have caused a great turmoil for him, and yet, he survived. How had he done it? He never talked about it aside from saying something along the lines of "being too awesome to die" occasionally.

There was evidence, if you knew what you were looking for, that nations had existed ever since humans had created group identities, but for how old a lot of them were, they knew so little about the nature of their own existences.

Japan focused back on his surroundings, Pochi looking up at him pleadingly for a walk. Perhaps a walk before he had to go would do both of them good.

* * *

Over the last few hours, the nations had been slowly starting to arrive at the airport closest to where the meeting was to be held. Whereas normally the host would have been waiting in the arrivals lounge to greet them, they had decided that they should avoid contact with each other outside of the world building. They didn't know who could be watching, and the sight of many of them together might just alert those after them about the meeting. There was a high security presence, with numerous plain clothes guards scattered through the terminal.

The passengers from the latest arrival flowed into the lounge, amongst being America, wearing his signature bomber jacket and with hand luggage in tow. He set his watch to the time on the clock looking down on the spacious room, and checked a note from his pocket. He had arranged with the American Embassy in China to have a car waiting for him to take him to the World Building, but his flight had apparently come in early, meaning he had a little time to kill until it arrived.

He wandered towards the number of TV screens that were on one wall of the lounge, showing different channels. They were all in Chinese, and he didn't understand much of it, but he tried to decipher what was going on with each of them. One, a news channel, caught his eye when an all too familiar face appeared on it: the impostor. It showed footage of an explosion... And then someone from the Italian police making a statement, which he understood a little better than the Chinese commentary...

Shit.

The woman had escaped, after a large group of people wearing Guy Fawkes masks and carrying guns stormed where she was being held. They had blasted their way in, killing a large number of guards and civillians, and it was clear as day that they weren't after just three people now.

They had an entire organisation after them, one seemingly armed to the teeth and unwilling to let anything stand in their way.

A beep from his watch alerted him that the car should have arrived. As he had said before, he had never looked forward to a world meeting so much in his life.

* * *

Germany walked into the building with Prussia trailing behind, still looking a little the worse for wear. China was waiting for them in the lobby. "_Danke_ China for hosting this at such short notice, world meetings are awful to organise. Who are we still waiting for?"

"South Africa and Greece mostly, a few regions as well, but otherwise everyone is here."

"Really? ...It seems so quiet in there, I'd expected several of them to be shouting at each other by now."

"I think everyone realises how serious this is for once-aru. Did you hear about how that woman was broken out by a masked group?"

"...What? No, I hadn't."

"They used explosives to get in and after that they gunned down whoever was in their way. It's all over the news."

"..._Gott_. Are Italy and Romano okay?"

"Italy's upset over it obviously, and Romano... He's just Romano."

As if on cue, the familiar Italian cursing could be heard from inside, but it was silenced soon after by several other voices, but none of them sounded angry at him.

"We'll go in, no point waiting out here. Thanks again, China."

* * *

The room was indeed strangely quiet, considering that the micronations and regions took the total present to around 300. There were no arguments over territory, no historical bickering. There was a quiet murmuring, somewhat tense. Every now and again, a voice rose above the others, only for the noise level to return to what it was before.

The door opened again, letting in the last few to arrive, and then finally China.

After they made their way to their seats, China spoke up and addressed the room.

"Now that we all seem to be here, let's begin."

* * *

**Can you feel the tension? The suspense? :3**

**SPOILER WARNING:**

**STUFF**

**WILL**

**HAPPEN.**


	13. It's WWIII, but not as you know it

**You know, thirteen chapters in, you should know by now that I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

"Now we all seem to be here, let's begin. You all know why we are here-aru, a collection of photos has been posted to the internet, all about on us. This is a severe breach of security, and threatens to reveal our existence to the wider world. They were posted by what now appears to be a terrorist group, who seem to have some sort of... Vendetta against us. France was shot, they've attempted to shoot Italy and they've infiltrated America's CIA to obtain further information on us. There's no doubt these terrorists pose a grave threat, not only to us but also our governments and people. The purpose of this meeting is to discuss possible courses of action to take in the face of this global threat-aru."

France put his hand up to speak. "As China said, I was shot. A woman stopped me in the street and asked me to confirm my name. I didn't in the end, but she knew my name anyway. Once it was apparent I wasn't going to tell her anything, she signaled a sniper, and I think you know what happened. The woman was involved in both of the other incidents that China mentioned, and she was just now broken out of custody by a masked gang. She seems to be a key force in this group, if they went to such trouble to do so."

Scotland cleared his throat. "As well as this woman running aroond, me and England bumped intae some man who knew... England's name. We're convinced that tha guy was taunting us."

This sent whispers going round. Their names were their most personal secrets, even they didn't know everyone else's, but these terrorists had managed to find them out...

America spoke next. "About the masks they wore to break her out, they were Guy Fawkes masks, the kind popular for protests and riots amongst a group from the Internet called Anonymous. They're disorganised and known for hacking into various websites for various reasons, but sometimes groups splinter off, becoming more organised. We think that's what's happened here, the main guys in this come from all over the world. As well as trying to gun us down at each chance they get, they've hacked into highly encrypted emails from the CIA. Conventional communications might not be safe any more..."

Germany's turn was next. "If we can't communicate, we'd be highly vulnerable. We're scattered across the world by our very nature, and if we can't stay in touch how are we to coordinate our actions?"

Spain leant forward and shifted in his seat. "We survived for hundreds of years without the internet and mobiles, didn't we? We used birds."

There were murmurs of agreement and once they had dissipated, the quiet voice of Canada could be heard. "Eh... I think we can all agree that we need to take care of the terrorist group, but... Well, the photos are out there. People have figured it out. We might not be able to reverse the damage, even if we removed the photos."

England muttered something to Scotland and Wales sitting either side of him before speaking. "...As long as we don't confirm it to them, they should forget over time if we carefully get rid of the photos, but we need to do it in a way as so to not raise further suspicions."

Switzerland's voice butted in before anyone else could speak. "We could use those stories some of them have been writing about us as an excuse to delete the entire topic... Some of them are quite frankly disturbing..."

Most agreed vigorously, although Hungary notably muttered something audible only to those closest to her.

Japan raised his hand to call for silence again. "If we are to delete the topic, we also need to delete the photos as well. Do we know where they are being hosted?"

It was America who answered. "...Actually, the CIA tracked down the images to that data centre on Sealand..."

All eyes turned toward the sailor suited boy, who until this point had been delighted to be included in a world meeting. He quietly tried to hide from view under the table, sinking in his seat.

England smirked at the sight. "So we delete the photos and topic under the excuse of inappropriate material being present. And it's a pretty valid excuse-"

Australia interrupted him. "Yeah, sure, but aren't we neglecting the fact that someone has probably backed them all up? What's the point if they just reupload them all?"

Germany looked thoughtful. "I don't think we can do much about that particular fact, except try and delete them again if they are. "

There was a short silence, ended when China spoke up again. "All those in favour of using Article 47 to delete the photos and topic for inappropriate material, raise your hands-aru."

There was shuffling as everyone, although some more hesitantly than others, did so.

"So, we've decided what to do about the photos, what about the terrorists? They won't just 'forget with time'."

Italy was the one who spoke first this time. "...They killed lots of people just to break that woman out... They'll kill anyone to get what they want..."

America spoke up once again. "Italy's right. If someone's in their way, they'll try and kill them. Then, who better to go after them than a bunch of immortal guys?"

Those in the room tried to make sense of what he had just said, and they all seemed to do so at the same time.

"You're not seriously suggesting-"

"That's crazy!"

"I don't know-"

"If this is another one of your hero ideas-"

"Maybe he has a point-"

"But they're after us-"

"GUYS, GUYS, QUIET!"

The room settled again, and America sighed. "Look, I've been thinking hard about this. We all don't want people getting killed because of us. We're also conveniently immortal. It makes sense!"

Romano was the one that got his voice to be heard over the rest. "You're fucking forgetting that they want to kill us, chigi. You didn't hear how that woman described us, she called us 'abominations'. If they shoot us, we'll still fucking die for a while, and during that time who knows what they could do?"

"That's why we won't be going alone, we'll be with others. Hell, we've survived too many wars to count between us all. It's like how I said to the President, we can look after ourselves, we're good enough fighters."

The rest contemplated this for a moment, before a voice broke the sudden silence. "...I think America is right."

Eyes turned toward the speaker, and were shocked to see it was Russia.

"As he said, it makes sense for it to be us taking them on, da? One benefit of us joining forces to become one could be that they come to us, and I know how that can make the difference in a war."

If Russia was agreeing with America... Those in the room murmured amongst themselves, Russia's use of the words 'become one' causing a few winces, but they all slowly found themselves agreeing too.

Germany found himself marvelling at how those at the normally ineffectual world meeting had pulled together so readily, something that he had been trying to achieve for years. He had to admit, when it came to World War Three, he didn't expect the entire world to be on the same side.

And it was in this moment of unity that a scream of pain sliced through the air.

* * *

**DID I NOT SAY THAT I WOULD GIVE YOU FLUFFY MOMENTS AND THEN RIP YOUR HEART OUT?**

**MYAHAHHAHAH.**

**Oh I have waited so long to write this, it's fabulous. I simply couldn't wait till my usual uploading time to post this. C:**

**Also, eeeee, so many people reading and enjoying this story. Each time I see a new review, I get a warm fuzzy feeling. :3**


	14. New scars, in and out of consciousness

**I couldn't be trusted to own Hetalia, I would go nuts one day and write nothing but crack.**

* * *

The sound echoed in the room. People frantically looked round to see who had been the source of it, eyes fimnally settling on the sight of England, clutching at his chest and struggling to breathe, emerald eyes wide. A few noticed that Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland nearby looked to be in pain as well. Scotland cried out in pain a moment later, scrabbling for something to hold on to. "...Holy... Holyrood... Oh god..."

Panic spread through the room, a number of nations rushing over to the group to try and help them, but Wales and Northern Ireland were now fully affected as well, gasping, trying to say something but failing.

"_Angleterre! Écosse! _Oh god, what's happened?"

England was now nearly doubled over in pain and trembling. "...west...Westminster..."

"Westminster? _Angleterre_, what's happened to Westminster?"

England looked up for a moment at France, a look in his eyes of fear and sadness. He opened his mouth to speak, but France was horrified to see instead blood trickle from the corner of his mouth before his eyes closed and he fell limp, the trembling stopping. "_Angleterre? Angleterre?! Mon dieu.._." He tilted his head so that he could check his pulse. "Oh god... His heart's stopped!" Even more gathered around, trying to help, and together they lifted England out of his seat to lay him on the floor, and began to try and resuscitate him.

Around, the other UK brothers had also succumbed to the pain, voices frantic as they tried to resuscitate them. They didn't think about anything else around them, right now four of their own were at death's door, and they needed them.

"China, we need ambulances!"

"Calling them right now!"

Soon, the sirens could be heard, heralding the arrival of desperately needed help.

* * *

The ward was silent aside from the thankfully regular beeping of the ECG monitors. There were only the four beds there, as China had explained the situation to his government and they had arranged a more secure and private ward for them.

A small group consisting of Ireland, France, America, Canada, Australia and New Zealand were sitting there, keeping watch over their progress having stayed by them since the meeting. Every now and again, one of the brothers would wake up for a time, bewildered and in pain, asking what had happened before falling unconscious again.

What had happened? ...It was all over the news. Westminster, and the other seats of government across the UK had been destroyed in a coordinated terrorist attack. No one had claimed responsibility yet, but they all knew who it had been.

There was a small TV in the room, and it was on quietly in the background, with them all occasionally glancing back over to the newsreader to check for developments. It cut to static suddenly, capturing their attention from their thoughts. Australia got up, and was about to hit the TV in an attempt to get it working again when the picture returned, only this time, the picture was not of the news. They all clamoured over one another when they noticed that a man in one of the Guy Fawkes masks was the sole feature of this new scene.

And then the masked man began to speak.

_"Greetings, citizens. I've no doubt that you have heard about today's... incident in the UK. A vital and damaging blow was dealt to the government there, but why? Well... I won't deny we were inspired by these masks so popular amongst those standing up to the governments of the world... But the UK government was just one part of cover up, **a conspiracy** spanning the globe, hiding the astounding truth from those unlucky enough to be excluded from the echelons of power: The immortal walk amongst us. ...They are the nations, the living embodiments of countries. For thousands of years, they have been manipulating us in their attempts to gain power and wealth, **to sustain their existences further beyond what is natural! **We are no more than the toy soldiers in their games._

_"**But for no longer**. We need to show a stand against not only those who have hidden the truth from us, but also rip out the lifeline sustaining these **parasites**, and let justice be served for what they have done. We are the Defiant, merely the first to see the light. You may deplore our actions, but we are sincere when we say we regret the deaths of the innocent. However, there is no other way. We must rise! We must rebel against these corrupt shadows, if we are ever to be free!"_

The picture returned to the newsroom, several people on screen rushing around trying to figure out what had happened. In contrast, the six watching the screen had frozen in fear.

* * *

Away from the quiet of the wards, shouting could be heard, panic lacing each of their voices.

"It's too late! We're doomed, there's no going back!"

"Australia, there's no other option! If the world really does find out about us, we are as good as dead."

"That's my fucking point! They _have_ found out about us!"

"He's right, something like this leaves scars, on our bodies and in the minds of our people. They won't just forget!"

"This was bound to happen eventually… why did we even try to hide?"

"Why? Why?! They'll have us wishing we could die! That's if we aren't torn apart by our people turning against us!"

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but those bastards are the ones who put my brothers in there! Let them drag us through the streets, but not until every last one of them has paid for that and the hundreds of other lives lost at their hands!"

"Yes. In the end, we represent our people, and they are the ones who will suffer as they hunt us down. We need to end this."

* * *

Several hours later, only America, France and Ireland remained, the others having to leave for their flights home. They themselves probably should have left to prepare their governments, but they couldn't leave them just yet, not while they were still unconscious and unable to be moved.

They waited in silence again, nothing more to be said in light of the events of the day.

"...ngh... No..."

They rushed over to Wales' bed, hopeful that this time he would not slip back into unconsciousness and that the others might wake up too.

His lime green eyes were distant and bleary as he slowly blinked. "...it hurts... so much..."

Ireland held his hand, being careful of the IV drip, and tears were in his eyes. "I know... Be strong and pull through... Please..."

"Any... News?"

"...the terrorists hacked into a number of news channels... they told the world about us... They've practically declared war."

Wales' expression hardened as much as the agony allowed him to do so. "Hell... I was going to give them war before this... They murdered our people..."

Tears fell, as Ireland awkwardly tried to embrace his brother amongst the wires and tubes, and as America and France watched on.

* * *

**Forgive me if the updates aren't as prompt or as often this week; I've got a ton of maths homework and physics coursework to do. :c**

***sounds of hearts breaking***

**Myahahahaha. C:**


	15. Defiant in the face of opposition

**I couldn't own Hetalia, I would just procrastinate on it like I am with my coursework.**

* * *

"Absolutely not! I can't allow you to go put yourself in danger like that!"

"But we're already in danger! Look what they did just to hurt Iggy! The sooner this ends the better, and we're the best people for the job! Hell, even Russia agrees with me!"

"I want this to end as much as you do, but we can't risk you being captured! That could pose as much risk to this country as any terrorist attack could! I'm already having to deny your existence, right now you need to lie low, not go charging off on a doomed mission!"

America, for the first time since bursting into the oval office, was silent and still. "You can send in your soldiers and agents, but right now, Artie and Iain and the others are in agony, feeling all the pain of the people killed and injured, and I'm not gonna let it happen again, to anyone."

He turned away and marched out of the door, opening it with such a force as so to send it slamming into the wall, oblivious to the calls behind him.

He also nearly didn't notice the two people he startled, and who then ran down after him.

"Alfred! Wait! It's Ramirez and McCoy!"

He froze, and then turned on his heel to face them. "What is it? I don't have time to waste, I need to go."

The President called out from down a corridor for America to stop again, and just before he was spotted, McCoy dragged him into a doorway out of sight.

"Ramirez, did you see Alfred go past? He's run off on some insane mission, and I'm scared he's going to get himself hurt or captured."

"That was Alfred? I think he ran down that way."

"Thank you!"

When the coast was clear, America and McCoy stepped back out. "Why... Why did you help me hide?"

"You want to go take down those sons of bitches? Then we're coming with you."

"...How'd you find out about that?"

"Um... You were both shouting pretty loudly..."

"Oh. Heh... Thanks, but I'm going to stop people like you having to put yourself in danger."

"We're not taking no for an answer, we want to see them pay as much as you do. If you have a couple of people by your side to help, you're less likely to be caught."

"..."

"Please, Alfred..."

"...fine. Any ideas on how to get out of the White House without being caught?"

* * *

France had only left the ward grudgingly, and the thought of Angleterre and his brothers in agony was his driving force as he packed the bare essentials that he would need.

He was going to make sure that no one else could be hurt, and he wouldn't be alone when he went. The Defiant had torn the fragile peace of the world apart in just one move... There was fear, panic and also questions being asked.

The word Nation was on everyone's lips: It had, after all, been shouted across the world. Many refused to believe the words of madmen, but some were curious. The photos had been deleted but also copied and scattered across the world.

The word Nation was ringing in everyone's ears, and the damage was done. The politicians were denying everything, but the questions kept coming.

The word Nation made him sick.

Couldn't he just be Francis Bonnefoy?

...Why did they hide their names from each other? From the other nations? It was just one of those things they did, a tradition almost, to keep their nation lives separate from their personal ones... And yet he wanted to shout his name, to drown out the word nation with who he was.

And when he went to end this, he would do so as Francis Bonnefoy, someone who also just happened to be France.

"Gabriel? It's Francis. I need your help with something."

* * *

Ireland had explained to his government why he hadn't returned home, and although they had wanted him back, they were understanding. He was thankful as well, as the physical wounds of his brothers were finally starting to heal, and they were now conscious more often and for longer. However, where the gashes had once been, scars had taken their place, scars that ached every moment.

"I just wish I could get out of this bloody bed… I wish I could help give those… terrorists just what they deserve for murdering all those people… our people..."

"I know you do. We all do, but you're in no shape to do so. You'll be doing those people no justice to get yourself injured further..."

England's eyes had a strange look to them, one that Ireland hadn't seen before. Then again, Ireland had never seen him so vulnerable. Mint Bunny had flown all the way here with Nessie and a number of fairies, and she nuzzled closer to him, wishing that she could ease his pain somehow. It didn't go unnoticed, and England brought his hand up carefully to stroke her, smiling sadly.

"Thank you Flying Mint Bunny, you're always there when I need you..."

Something occurred to Ireland, something that Scotland had told him. "Arthur... I probably shouldn't bring this up now, but Iain said that you were imprisoned at the end of the Civil War... What happened? Why didn't you tell us?"

England looked up again at Ireland, the same look there as before. "...I suppose that back then and now have some similarities. They wanted me to suffer for the crime of being what I was." He paused for a moment before continuing. "...after so much fighting, I didn't care. I didn't run. I let them convince me that I deserved it..."

The fairies gathered round him as he fought back the memories and the tears. Ireland gently rested his hand on England's shoulder. "What's done is done, but you never deserved any of it. We've always hidden because we're the perfect scapegoats... When this is done, things will be different..."

That sad smile returned. "I think we can be sure of that."

* * *

…...…... . . . . .

_…"we wil… …eate… …ew world… free… parasites whe… they hid…. world where… humanity can flourish as one species… be unconfined by borders. The earth will be ours, ours to shape! _We are the Defiant!"

A deafening roar filled the air, as air filled lungs and heart beat for the first time.

* * *

**I am an A-grade procrastinator. **

**Shame they don't have exams in it.**

**Again, don't panic if you don't see another chapter for a day or two (Or maybe even three), although the maths is out of the way I've still got physics to work on, so we'll see.**

**Anyway, STUFF WILL HAPPEN. **

**DAMN DO I LOVE WRITING.**

**((can't I become an author and live in the woods with 47 cats?))**


	16. Setting off on a new course of action

**My physics is done! I don't own hetalia.**

* * *

The night had drawn in, and people were going about their business. A lone figure wearing a black hoodie to cover his hair and face waited on a corner, listening to two people nearby talking, frowning when he heard just what they were talking about.

"It's awful what happened in Britain... All those people... What do you think of those Defiant guys?"

"I think they're crazy! To do something like that over a silly conspiracy theory...! Immortal people? Nations? Crazy..."

"...There's a ton of photos of the people who they claim are the 'nations' on the internet... They could have been doctored, but they seem pretty genuine."

"They are doctored, no doubt about it. It's impossible!"

"I suppose... But what if there were somehow living nations? What do you think they would be like?"

"...I don't think someone could live that long or go through the kind of things countries go through without having a few screws come loose... But on the other hand, they would have seen so many things. Historians would go crazy over them. It's an interesting concept, at least."

"I hadn't thought about that. It would be so interesting to hear a first hand account of something from so long ago... Heh, if the governments of the world really have covered up something like the existence of living countries, what else could they have covered up? Magic? Roswell? What if Roswell really happened?

"...As soon as you said Roswell, I had a bizarre vision of a personified America watching movies with an alien."

The two walked away, still talking, leaving the figure waiting as even more people went by. A buzz in the pocket of the hoodie alerted him to a text.

_Gil, we're meeting in the park near you. Francis has brought everything we could need!_

* * *

America had insisted that they stopped off at McDonald's before they left Washington. Ramirez was driving, and McCoy was glancing behind her at America occasionally, incredulous at how fast he was eating.

He was half way through the McFlurry when the radio cut to a press conference. The President began to address the audience. _"...I'm sure everyone has heard what has happened to our closest ally... We are sending aid and assistance to help deal with the impact of this tragedy, but this doesn't address the cause of this horror. A new terrorist group called the Defiant has emerged, a terrorist group that poses a threat to the entire world. Right now, the governments of the world need to work together more than ever to stop more innocent people being killed, and also to prevent this disturbance of world peace from being exploited by others. As such, we are opening constant talks with all members of the United Nations to help coordinate responses to this threat. Security will be extremely high around government buildings, and some facilities and buildings will be shut until further notice. Together, the world will face this threat."_

As he left, the press were frantic, shouting questions, the word nation being heard a few times. America frowned. "He didn't mention us... That's gonna sound suspicious."

McCoy turned round again. "What's the alternative... Deny it all? They have to hedge their bets."

"...I guess. That and the President's probably pissed at me..."

There was a long silence as they contemplated the situation, with America finishing the ice cream just before McCoy broke the silence.

"Hey, Alfred... We never got to talk to you about anything other than the basics at that meeting. We know a few bits and pieces about you, but what are some of the other nations like?"

"The others? Er... Where do I start?"

"Um, how about Canada, seeing as we're going to meet him?"

"Oh, yeah, Canada! He's my bro, and he's pretty quiet. Loves ice hockey, maple syrup and polar bears. He even has a polar bear called Kumajirou!"

Ramirez joined in the conversation. "He has a pet _polar bear_?"

America laughed. "Yeah, but he's only a cub."

"He won't stay that way!"

"...that's a weird thing about us, when we have pets, they don't seem to age. Kumajirou's been a cub for ages."

"...How the hell does that work?"

"No idea. Weird nation powers?"

McCoy couldn't help but laugh at Ramirez's reaction. "You do realise that you guys kinda fly in the face of science? I mean, you're immortal, you're somehow tied to the lives of thousands of people, you stop animals from aging... It could almost be described as magic."

America made some sort of noise. "Magic? Hell no, that's Iggy's area, always talking to his fairies..." His voice tailed off.

"...Iggy? Which country is he?"

"...England."

"Oh. How... How is he?"

"He got hit hard, along with his brothers. It happened at the emergency meeting, so he's stuck in a hospital in China. From what I've heard, he's starting to recover slowly now."

"...Well, at least he's getting better... What was that you were saying about fairies?"

"...You'll catch him talking to his 'magical friends' sometimes, even though there's nothing there, and he has a ton of weird spell books at his house. Doesn't matter, magic totally isn't real."

"Really? How do you explain your existence then?"

"I... I dunno... Radioactive stuff? Some meteor from outer space? That's how it goes in the comics, right?"

McCoy laughed again. "If the rest of the nations are anything like you, I wonder what those world meetings are like."

America laughed a little nervously. "Heh, they kinda just end up in chaos. Oh, turn left here!"

* * *

Germany was wondering where the fuck his brother could have gone. They had arrived back home, he had contacted the Chancellor about what had happened to the UK brothers, and had gone back to attempting to organise the response of the nations, this time through encrypted and coded emails.

When he looked up again, he noticed that Prussia had gone from his seat on the sofa. He went to go get a beer, half expecting to see him in the kitchen.

When he wasn't, he was perplexed: he hadn't heard anyone go upstairs. Just to check, he went upstairs, and poked his head I'm each of the rooms. In Prussia's room, the clothes he had been wearing were in a pile in the middle of the floor, and a small rucksack that was normally tucked away was gone.

And all that Germany could think at that precise moment was: "_Scheiße_."

* * *

…... . . .

_I can hear voices._

_Where am I?_

_...Who am I?_

_…What am I?_

_Questions..._

_…Why do I feel that I am unsafe here, from those voices...?_

_Can I... Move?_

* * *

**And done, both chapter and coursework wise. C:**

**Setting out on a new destination, where do they go from here? What are they doing? And what lies in store for them? :3**

**(Mild writers block, but don't worry, I'm still working on it, and I know the final destination. :) )**


	17. Hunters and the Hunted

**Hetalia: I don't own it. I do however, own an Eevee cuddly toy. Aww, he's so cute and snuggly**.

* * *

Prussia was loitering by one of the several trees in the park, waiting yet again in the dark. When his mobile buzzed again, he checked it, only this time it was a text from his brother: _Where the fuck have you gone and what the fuck are you doing? _

He rolled his eyes, he was surprised it took him this long to notice the lack of his awesome presence. After a pause, he sent a reply, guessing it would look more suspicious if he didn't: _I went out for a walk. Is that a crime?_

Soon after, a reply came. _Without telling me? It's not like you to go anywhere without announcing your departure or arrival._

_Yes, I did. I don't need to tell you everything that the awesome me does._

_...Fine, promise you'll be back soon and that you won't get into trouble._

_Trouble? The awesome me does not get into trouble!_

A reply didn't come so he stashed it back in his pocket, looking up to see France and Spain walking across the park towards him.

"Hey, about time you two got here! Time to enact my awesome plan!"

France put down the large bag he was carrying. "_Your_ plan? I think you will find that it is _our_ plan."

"Ja, ja, details. What was it that you brought?"

"Ah, I pulled some favours in with some people and got a little help from the guy who was in charge of my murder investigation." He opened the zip, revealing a large quantity of what looked to be police issue equipment, as well as a few guns for good measure. "Night vision goggles, body armour, everything we could need to wait for them to turn up looking for us."

Spain eagerly started going through the contents of the bag, pulling out a pair of the night vision goggles and putting them on. "Hey, Gil, you said that there was a number of these Defiant guys nearby. How did you find that out?"

"Ha, they forget that the awesome me knows all the secret spots of the internet. It wasn't hard to find that there was a number of them based here. Now we just have to draw them to the park."

"Oh, and how do you propose we do that?"

Prussia smirked. "Simple." All of a sudden, he had pulled out his smartphone and pulled France and Spain close, taking a picture of the three of them.

* * *

The car pulled up at its destination, an unassuming looking house not far over the Canadian border, and on the outskirts of the city. Ramirez turned round to face the backseat passenger. "This the place?"

"Yeah! Come on, Mattie'll be waiting!"

America barrelled out of the car, leaving McCoy and Ramirez behind as they got out too. The doorbell was rang several times, and when the response didn't come as quickly as America would have liked, he started hammering on the door. "Bro, we're here, open up!"

The two agents finally reached the door as it opened in such a way so that America hit Canada in the face. Canada clutched his nose while his brother took in what had happened, with it taking a full five seconds for him to realise what his hand had just slammed into was not the door but someone's face. "Uh, sorry Mattie!"

"...no, it's fine. Glad you're here, come in." Canada stepped out of the way to let the three inside.

* * *

They were sat down, all sipping their coffee periodically while talking.

"So, you're Canada? It's good to meet another nation."

"Yeah... I'm Canada, also known by my human name Matthew Williams. I was actually the one to first find the photos online, but that seems so long ago now. Ugh, maybe if I had gotten everyone together earlier..."

"...Relax, bro, these Defiant dudes would exist anyway. It's not your fault."

As if on cue, Kumajirou wandered in, looking up at the four, and then at Canada specifically. "...who are you?"

Canada sighed. "...I'm Canada, your owner."

Ramirez and McCoy were agape. "**You never said he could talk!"**

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, that's Kuragyro for you."

America chimed in. "Yeah, it's not that unusual for nation pets to be able to talk."

...Once the two had calmed down slightly, and Kumajirou had lost interest and curled up by Canada, Ramirez managed to find his voice again. "...anything else we should know about you guys?"

Canada sipped his coffee again. "Eh... America is friends with an alien called Tony?"

America just grinned as the two agents stared. Ramirez was about to start shouting again, but McCoy silenced him, her ears and throat still hurting slightly from last time.

She took this moment to try and change the topic. "So... We've hidden the personifcation of the United States from the President, and smuggled you over the border under everyone's noses. Where do we go from here?"

America looked a little more serious. "I think it's best if we join up with the other nations. We need to take these Defiant dudes head on before they decide to target someone else's government, or even try to kill one of us again."

"Yeah... You can all stay the night here. I heard briefly from France and Prussia that they've found where a number of the Defiant are based, so we can fly over there as soon as possible."

"Sounds good." McCoy surreptitiously elbowed her partner to keep him quiet.

Two humans amongst a number of nations. They were starting to worry that they had been kept a secret not to protect themselves but the public from their craziness.

This... Was going to be interesting.

* * *

The three were waiting amongst the trees, night goggles allowing them to see everything going by. Prussia had posted the selfie on one of the secret forums, along with coordinates for the other side of the park.

A strange determination had settled over them. They knew that if what they were doing was found out by the other nations, not to mention their bosses, they were in line for a heap of trouble. But they didn't care. They had convinced each other that this was a brilliant plan, and besides... It had to end.

If this paid off, they might just get the information needed to save hundreds of lives.

And so they had waited through the night.

As the first streaks of dawn appeared in the sky, they saw the figures searching through the undergrowth a way away.

They made their move, sneaking towards them. There were two in the open, but the goggles revealed two more in the bushes, and as they got closer, they could hear what seemed to be orders. "Keep searching! This could be the breakthrough that we need. If we can capture them..."

There was sudden movement, and there was a cry as the two in the bushes staggered and collapsed. The other two drew their guns, and rushed to where their colleagues had fallen, only to be restrained suddenly, guns being kicked away.

A loud and piercing laugh filled the air as they could now see a hooded figure standing over the unconscious pair, and they both paled when, under the light of their dropped torches, they could see his red eyes.

"You bastards are going to tell us everything we want to know, starting with where your base is."

* * *

_Something has happened._

_What... Was that?_

_I need to..._

_See._

_Move._

_I need to find them._

* * *

**This would have been written quicker if I hadn't found two incredibly long and interesting fanfics and also started looking up everything on Wikipedia. **

**Curse you for being interesting, Wikipedia.**

**Curse you.**

***procrastinates intensely***


	18. Turn the world upside down

**Tell you what, if you do own Hetalia, you can give it to me as a Christmas present.**

* * *

It was midmorning when the door opened. Blackie, Berlitz and Aster all rushed to greet Prussia, as did Germany, although certainly not quite as cheerily.

"**Where the hell have you been? What the fuck are you playing at bruder?! You can't go running off, not now! There's been riots in countries across the world! People are noticing and you'll be noticed more easily than most! You turned off your phone! You were with France and Spain again, weren't you?-"**

"Ugh, West, you're hurting my ears. Yeah, I was with France and Spain, but we were just doing a little investigating-"

**"Investigating? Is that what you call it now? YOU TOOK ON FOUR OF THE DEFIANT BY YOURSELVES! THAT IS NOT 'AWESOME', THAT IS STUPID AND RECKLESS! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN CAPTURED OR WORSE!"**

"Yeah, but we weren't! We captured them, and we got a ton of information! Their base is in Russia-"

**"I don't ca... **Their _base_ is in Russia? ...whereabouts in Russia?"

"Outskirts of some city towards the east. Apparently one of the high ranking guys in the Defiant operates a safehouse there and it also doubles up as some sort of base. See, we _were_ awesome! We now know where they are! We can go take them down and give them what they deserve."

"...Gilbert, they could be lying. They know what we are, and they want us dead. It's probably a trap. ...You were lucky things turned out how they did as things are."

* * *

_Bright._

_So bright._

_So big._

_And yet... so small._

A tiny child wandered the corridors, dressed in grey and black to contrast against her white shoulder length hair, a mask dangled round her neck.

_Left._

_The voices are... I don't know. But I _need_ to find them._

She came to a door, pausing before it. She could actually hear the voices now, as opposed to just being aware of them. It was slightly open...

"...what of those fools who went off investigating a fake photo?"

"They've been captured. No word as to how, but I suspect it was a sting operation."

"Fools! Make it clear to all of our ranks that no move should be made without our express permission!"

"Shall we break them out?"

"...no need to waste resources on idiots. Kill them. Make sure they do not talk."

"Understood. ...Sir? What of the progress in China?"

"Everything is progressing smoothly. The bait has been taken, the bribes snapped up. We will strike soon."

_Footsteps._

_Door._

"What the..."

_Touch._

_Pain._

"What is a child doing here?! Explain yourself!

_Shriek._

_Tears._

"I'm... I'm... Defiant. Don't hurt me... Please."

The man dragged the child inside. "Sir, this child was outside... Who is she?"

"No idea."

Defiant saw through the tears a tall man, face obscured by a mask like her own. His voice resonated in her.

He stepped closer, examining her. "Who are you?

"I'm... Defiant."

_Pain again._

"What... Are you doing here?"

"This is where I woke up!"

"...what... are you?"

"I... I'm just Defiant..."

The eyes behind the mask widened.

"...Freak. Abomination. **Take it out of my sight!"**

* * *

America switched his phone back on after the flight, and regretted it when he saw the number of texts and missed calls from the President and his government. He switched it back off and walked over to where his brother and the two agents were waiting.

They had called France, and when he hadn't picked up, texted him on his mobile to say that they were coming. They had got a reply, if somewhat cryptic and short, saying that he would be there to meet them.

Sure enough, he could be seen waiting for them, his face lighting up once he saw them, greeting them in the way France always did. "Alfred and Matthieu!~ And are these the two you told me about? Ramirez and... McCoy?"

America stepped between them and France not too subtly, giving a look that said: "_Dude, it's been five seconds, don't hit on them._"

"Yeah, they helped me get away from the President and now they're helping us take them down! Uh, you said that you knew where some of them were and that you were doing something about it..."

"...Ah, _oui_, I can tell you what happened in the car..."

The look on his face as he turned away made Ramirez and McCoy a little apprehensive again as to what they were getting into.

* * *

China had made sure to visit the ward when he heard that the UK brothers were now starting to get out of bed, although they were all still weak. Sure enough, when he entered the doors, the first thing he saw was England taking a few shaky steps, assisted by Ireland, and the other brothers sat beside their respective beds talking amongst themselves. England looked up to see who had entered the room, scowling ever so slightly when he saw it was China, but his face contorted in pain again when he took another step.

China didn't take England's reaction to heart. "Good to see you're out of bed-aru."

England scoffed. "So am I... I don't think I could take much longer of that bloody bed."

Scotland craned his neck round the bed to look at China. "...Say, would it be tae much tae ask for a wee dram-"

"For god's sake, Scotland, shut up about the whiskey, it's the last thing you need right now!"

"...I wouldn't be tae sure about that..."

There was an awkward silence as China thought about what to say next. "...Have you been updated on the latest news? Thanks to a reckless stunt that Prussia, France and Spain pulled off, we now think we know where a Defiant base is-aru."

The brothers all looked round, all suddenly serious. Northern Ireland was the one to speak, voice quiet and determined. "...Perhaps we can start fighting back now..."

China nodded. "That's the impression I've been getting... Though some of our governments are seemingly intent on locking us away. I believe America and France have already managed to anger their bosses somehow. As for mine... I don't know. Something isn't right, and I can't tell what."

"...I don't think we have much of a government left to anger... As much as I want to go home, I don't want to until I know that my people are safe... And that they've paid for what they've done. When are we..."

England's voice tailed off as he listened to the marching boots drawing closer, closer until they burst through the door.

"Put your hands on your heads."

* * *

**DUN**

**DUN**

**DUUUUUUN!**

**STUFF GETS INTERESTINGER AND INTERESTINGER**

**MWAHAHAHAHA I AM EVIL WHEN IT COMES TO CLIFFHANGERS.**

**The two long fanfics I mentioned last time are in my favorites list... It should be obvious from the word count which ones. XD**

I should now do the chemistry homework that I am spectacularly procrastinating on.


	19. No haven anywhere

**I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

"Put your hands on your heads. You there, turn around slowly."

China flinched at the harsh Russian accent, before doing so. Blocking the doorway were a number of Defiant, wearing their now signature grey and black clothing, masked, and carrying guns. England spoke, his voice bitter. "Oh, so only now you have the guts to try and face us? Only after you murdered hundreds of _innocents_, hundreds of _our_ people? ...Why? Why do you do this? How the hell do you justify mass murder in your heads?!"

The leader of the group spoke once again. "Why? We Defiant all have our own reasons for wanting your kind eradiated. The primary one being that amongst you, you have overseen some of the greatest horrors on this planet. You chastise us for harming a few hundred when **millions** have died at your hands! Your very existence goes against both God and science, you do not belong in this world. Those who have died as a result of our fight for freedom are either traitors or martyrs-"

Ireland stopped his ranting, his face as close as he dared to the impassive mask. "You come here to envoke the name of God, to say that it's our fault for existing? How... We don't ask to be born! No one does! Stop and listen to yourselves, for god's sake!"

China found his voice too, subtly feeling the handle of the wok hidden in his clothing. "...I may not know about God, but but science? Science is always partly wrong. What is accepted as fact is fluid-aru! Not long ago, humanity thought the world was flat!-"

"SILENCE! Against the wall, all of you!"

Scotland was seething, and he would have likely killed the man already if he could walk without assistance. "Why? So ya can put a bullet in each of our skulls? Ya forget, ya tried that with France, and he woke up in the morgue. Ya cannae kill us."

Perhaps the man was smirking under that mask. "With your country crippled, I wouldn't be so sure. Against the wall, now."

When there was no movement, some of the troops marched over, pushing the nations towards the far side of the room. Ireland took a swing at one of them, but was quickly restrained and pinned against the wall, as was China, wok sent skidding across the floor. England tried to fight back, but cried out in pain when he was punched in the ribs, opening some of his wounds again.

With nowhere left to go, all England could do was smirk. "Idiots... You may have destroyed my parliament, but as long as people call themselves English and British, I'll exist. ...And as long as I exist, I'll still have my magic."

Before the leader of the troops could retort, England had cast a fireball, sending the Defiant scattering in panic. The other UK brothers took a moment, glancing at each other before they too cast their own spells to keep the armed men at bay, while England used all his strength to begin casting another spell, one that, if it worked, would get them far away from here.

If it worked.

China was left bewildered, even more so as a blinding light consumed them.

* * *

...Just how had seemingly everyone ended up here? Spain had turned up a little after Prussia had got home, and had proceeded to be obnoxiously loud. Not long after, Italy had turned up looking for him, raising the noise level further. Add Austria in, who had turned up without explanation like usual, and you had a recipe for a headache.

When the doorbell rang again, Germany had to pause to compose himself.

"_Wer ist es_-"

"Yo, Germany!

"Honhonhon~ _Bonjour Allemagne_, from the noise I would guess that we are not your only visitors?"

It took all of his composure to stop himself from shutting the door on France, America, and... gott, what was his name again? Uh... There were two others he didn't recognise.

"Who are they?" His voice was flat, betraying his mental exhaustion.

"Huh? Oh, they're my guys, they're cool! They helped me get away from my boss, I pissed him off pretty bad. So, are we gonna go take down the Defiant now?"

"...Are you sure they're safe?"

"Yeah, totally safe!"

"Ugh... Fine. Come in."

Inside the house, it was truly chaos. The dogs were running round as Spain was fawning over Italy and Prussia was proclaiming his awesomeness. Austria just didn't know what to do first, attempt to boss everyone around or argue with Prussia. To be honest, he was doing pretty well attempting to do both at the same time.

When France and America burst in, the noise level rose as they clamoured over one another to greet them. When Canada, Ramirez and McCoy came in, trailing behind, there was a sudden hush as they took in the unfamiliar faces.

"Kesesesese! Who are the new guys?"

"Ciao! I'm Veneziano!"

"...What are they doing here? Germany, this is your fault!"

"Hey guys, this is Ramirez and McCoy, they're with me and they're gonna help us take on the Defiant!"

"...We're taking on the Defiant by _ourselves_?"

"Who else, you stupid aristocrat?"

"¡Sí, I thought we had agreed that!"

"Ve... As long as we stick together..."

Germany entered the room again. "Please don't argue again... You two, have America and France filled you in on everything? Any other questions you have?"

The two agents looked more than slightly overwhelmed and Ramirez was staring at Prussia. "Um... What the hell is up with your hair and eyes?"

Prussia laughed again. "It is just one sign of my Prussian awesomeness! Another sign is-"

"Prussia? But... That's not a country anymore..."

Prussia looked a little crestfallen and hurt. "Shut up. I'm too awesome to-"

"Don't start again, bruder. He's East Germany now, but he still goes by Prussia."

"So... That makes you West?"

"Ja. Seeing as you don't seem to know everyone, this is Austria, Spain and Italy."

Before anyone could say anything else, a blinding light took them all by surprise. When they could see again, the already crowded room was even more full. England, who had materialised in front of America and France, crumpled to the ground, exhausted from the exertion of casting such a spell with no support.

"Iggy! What the hell was that?!"

Ireland reeled a little, before gaining his footing. "...The Defiant attacked the ward. We had no other way out. ...why the hell did we end up here of all places?"

France's eyes widened. "They attacked the ward? How did they find out that you were there? It was supposed to be secure!"

China was still slightly disorientated, clutching his head. "Ugh, I felt that something wasn't right. I... Think I am going to lose my lunch-aru."

With that, they quickly parted, Germany pointing the way to the bathroom as he ran past.

"...ugh. All things considered, I am so bloody glad to be out of that ward."

America's eyes locked back on England. "Yo, Iggy, you didn't answer, what the hell was that?!"

"Magic, you idiot. You still refuse to believe?"

McCoy and Ramirez were stood in the middle of the chaos, eyes wider than ever as Germany's three dogs ran round, barking loudly

"...magic, aliens, talking polar bears, immortal living countries... We need a pay rise."

"I... Could get behind that."

* * *

**:3**

**I love writing this. Fun fact, the first part of this chap is a reworking of a prototype chapter 15, which I half wrote and then discarded, as I felt I was cramming a little too much in too few chapters and that I needed to build on some other points of the story.**

**Special mention to the latest review for this story, made by Kuroenna, which left me blushing pile of goo. Seriously, thank you so much, I love that you love this story so much. Not to forget everyone else who has reviewed and read this, love you all! so many compliments, oh my.**

***goes almost as red as Romano***


	20. An apocalypse from a living room

**I don't own hetalia, but one day I'll own my own stories, and I'll keep on writing.**

* * *

"Angleterre, what happened?" France was practically shaking England, who was still on the floor, causing him to wince as his wounds were aggravated again.

"Stop shaking me you frog! A group of masked Defiant troops burst in and wanted to put a bullet in each of our heads in the vain hope that it would kill us. That's pretty much all there was to it."

Scotland piped up from his position on the floor. "Ya forgot tha part where tha lead guy ranted for ages about how we should be wiped off tha face of tha earth. Can ya get anymore cliché than that?"

"That's it!" America's sudden outburst drew the attention to him, and startled the two agents either side of him. "This needs to stop now! We know where their base is, what's to stop us from going there and taking them down right now! I've got a plan, I'll go in-"

"I would guess that your plan centres around us backing you up as you go in, like usual, da?"

...There was a moment of awkward silence as the others in the room comprended just who had spoken. Sure enough, Russia was stood in the corner of the room, scarf and all, having somehow avoided being noticed until now.

"Who the hell invited you?! Why would you be with Iggy and the others?!"

Ireland was puzzled. "...wait, he wasn't here before we arrived? But... What?"

Russia just smiled and shrugged at the confusion. "I hitched a ride with them."

England tried to stand, succeeding only by propping himself up on the sofa. "Hitched a ride?! That's... For god's sake. (_Why me_?)" He slumped back down, head in his hands.

A slightly trembling hand slowly rose up above the heads. "Uh... What the hell is going on?"

The crowd parted slightly to give the speaker, Agent McCoy, a little space. She looked exhausted and bewildered, the last few days having caught up with her in the form of dark circles under her eyes. "...Please, just who are the people who... turned up just now?"

Germany sighed, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on himself. He gestured as he introduced each person. "Agents McCoy and Ramirez, this is England, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, Ireland... And Russia. The man who ran for the bathroom was China."

As if on cue, China chose this moment to return from the bathroom, but he was still looking rough. "...Something is happening. It's not just the ward-Argh!" He collapsed against Russia, having lost consciousness after a sudden burst of pain. Those nearby rushed over to try and help, with the two CIA agents left hovering behind them, confused even further, trying to figure out what had happened to the man to cause him to collapse.

The similarity to what had happened at the world meeting was not lost on England.

When they couldn't get a response from China, someone in the chaos found the TV remote, turning the news on in the hope that there might be an explanation.

_"...we are receiving word from contacts in Beijing that there appears to be some sort of... Incident involving the Chinese Government. Details are sketchy and conflicting, but the general theme of reports is that armed men have entered several key government buildings. The reports vary in who they claim the armed groups to be, with some saying that they are Chinese soldiers, armed civilians or even members of the terrorist group that attacked the UK government, who are calling themselves the Defiant. We'll bring the latest as it comes in-"_

The TV was muted.

* * *

The restraints dug into her skin, even though she had stooped struggling a while ago. The door opened and a shadow fell across her, and she flinched, waiting for the needle to pierce her flesh.

When it didn't, she allowed herself to look up at the white coated man, a grey surgical mask on his face to obscure his mouth but not his eyes.

"...I'm not going to hurt you."

She blinked as she stared into his eyes, nothing in them to suggest any malice, nothing in them like the look that the man who had put her in here had gave her. When she tried to speak, her voice was hoarse and cracked. "...what?"

The man sighed. "...When I joined the Defiant, I was angry, yes, angry at the governments, angry at the nations. I wanted them to be held accountable... But not this... Not the indiscriminate murder, not the torture of a child. Not this..."

She gasped as the restraints loosened, and the man handed her back her mask.

He knelt down to her eye level. "Listen, you need to run. The Defiant want a world united and without war, and yet those aims have been twisted by those hoping to use it to gain power. Run, and find the nations, help stop this madness. If you go through the vents to the western entrance, there's one of my friends waiting to get you away. Go!"

He opened the vent in the ceiling, and helped her up. She hesitated, and looked back to the man. "Wait... What's your name?"

She couldn't tell under the mask, but his eyes seemed to smile sadly. "Alex. You need to go, now!"

"...Thank you, Alex." One last look back and Defiant was gone, and he fixed the cover back on quickly behind her.

She clambered through the vents for what seemed ages, only pausing briefly when shouts and sirens broke out. She kept going after a moment, even though she could hear Alex's voice, and the guards holding him at gun point.

He was so calm, as they shouted questions at him. Perhaps even... Defiant.

She kept crawling through the vents and the tears when the shot rang out through the compound.

* * *

With the TV muted, the noise of the news was replaced by worried arguing, while some were tending to the unconscious China, his pulse weak but stable.

"This can't go on! We need to go to that base and destroy it!"

"For gott's sake! They could have been lying, we have no proof, only an address!"

"Better than nothing!"

"...Russia, what do you say? Could there be a Defiant base in your country?"

"Hmm, there could be many things out there in the snow."

"...Is that a yes or a no?"

"A maybe."

"Great, a real help."

"I think you are forgetting that, base or not, it is unlikely they only have one."

"Look, at the very least, we could get some more information on them."

"Yeah, what was that saying or something? Knowing is half the battle!"

"Ve, are we getting more people to come with us at least? Safety in numbers?"

"But if there's too many of us together we'll be noticed!"

"Who cares? Let's go! I want them to know just who kicked their asses!"

"_Hey! Everyone! Shut up for one moment!_

The TV was unmuted, and the newsreader resumed.

_"...Just in, the Defiant have claimed responsibility for the China Coup. Details are still thin as to just what has happened, but it seems that a faction of the Chinese government have aligned themselves with the Defiant and are now in control-"_

The silence after the TV was muted again continued until someone managed to sum up the thoughts of the room.

"...shit. ...If the Defiant are in control of China, not only is _he_ in danger, but... They have nuclear weapons."

* * *

**I think of things to put here and then forget them when I get to this bit. XD**

**Fun fact again, I wrote a list to remind myself of all the guys at Germany's house, and spelt everyone's name perfectly.**

**Except Canada.**

**I forgot how to spell Canada for a moment.**

**I had to think about how to spell it just then. XI**

**Next update may be delayed by a day or so due to family stuff, but I'll still be writing. Till then, have fun imagining what terrible fates might befall your favourite character. C:**


	21. No time to waste, forward march

**Too many story ideas, not enough time. Maybe if owned Hetalia, I'd have the time, but alas, I don't**.

* * *

America exchanged glances with Russia, who looked as worried as he was. He gulped, his mouth suddenly very dry.

There was a panicked chatter as the words sank in.

"Nuclear fallout?! There's a special place in hell for that kind of apocalypse-"

"Germany... That won't happen, will it-"

"They won't stop-"

Ramirez's voice, sharp and irate, cut through the clamour, silencing it. "Look, if they have nuclear weapons, then we can't waste time arguing and panicking! Right now, we're the world's best hope when it comes to stopping this, and we can't afford to let them down. The only lead we have is this 'base', so we need to act on it. I have a plan... We'll need as many people as we can if we are going in... "

* * *

The governments of the world were slipping into chaos, be it imperceptible or obvious. China had, depending on your viewpoint, either turned or fallen to the Defiant, the seats of government in UK destroyed by people under the very same name, and numerous other little skirmishes were scattered around the world.

Riots were rife, the people divided. Who did they believe? The terrorists? The governments? The 'evidence' or what they knew to be true? Each day new photos and anecdotes emerged... But yet they had no _answers_.

Around the world, people were having to decide just what they believed, and then, what they were going to do about it.

Around the world, people were asking questions, talking on street corners and banging on doors.

The leaders of the world were no different to any other person in the end.

Even before the call went out to the nations of the world to gather to confront their foe, some had had to hide and run from their presidents, monarchs and prime ministers. The turmoil affected them, as did any great event, but this was different. Some were _rejecting_ them. China felt this the most with his own government turning against him, and it left him close to death, clinging on through those who either didn't believe the tales of nations and still called themselves Chinese and those who still were Chinese even though they believed.

France felt it himself, each decision a pinprick in the back of his mind. What was it that _Angleterre_ had likened it to? ...something from Peter Pan... Ah, _oui_, every time someone said that they didn't believe in fairies, a fairy died. He used to get so angry whenever someone said that-

...It wasn't a perfect analogy, but it was good enough.

France's mind started to wander again, as he thought about what the nations might do after this... If they survived it all. Would they hide again? ...would it be even possible to do so? On the one hand, he was desperate to cling on to any semblance of a normal life, but one the other, he was so tired of lying about who he was.

"Ve... Are we there yet?"

France subtly hit his head against the car window. Just how had he ended up in the car with Germany, Italy and Austria? Really, he got on reasonably well with them all, but this was the tenth time in half an hour that Italy had asked the same question.

Germany, currently driving, seemed to be equally irritated by Italy's constant fidgeting in the seat behind him, but it was Austria who had the energy to reply to his question. "No, Italy, we are not there yet. We won't be there for at least another hour."

There was a groan, and Germany winced as Italy unintentionally kicked Germany's seat again. "...Do we have any pasta-"

"No Italy, we do not, you ate it two hours ago."

Another groan, France looked behind him to see the small pile of white flags that Italy had been busying himself with for the past while, and Italy partly buried underneath them. "_Italie_... Can't you just have a siesta or something?"

His head roused from the pile of flags. "But it's not siesta time yet!"

France sighed. "We're going across time zones, it probably is siesta time here."

Italy pouted and buried himself in the white flags again. "But it's not siesta time for _me_! ...can we play one of those car games again? I'll start, I spy with-"

The scribbling of Austria's pen stopped for a moment. "No, Italy. Not I-Spy."

"...Then how about that game where you say something and then the next person says something related to it? What's it called... Telephone? Connections? I'll start again! Pasta~!"

France hit his head on the window again, this time not so subtly.

* * *

Just how had he ended up in the car with Prussia, America and Agent McCoy? Prussia and America were, despite being a little more serious than usual, still obnoxiously loud. McCoy had been trusted to drive, with Ramirez going with the other UK brothers. They had tried to keep the passengers in each car at four, so they had room for supplies and weapons. They would have flown, but the sheer amount of weapons would be hard to explain. Add in the fact that having to go through customs might lead to them gaining unwanted attention, either from the public, their governments or the Defiant, and this meant that England was cooped up in a car as Prussia and America gave him, and presumably McCoy as well, a headache.

He tried to block out the noise, thinking about how many of the nations were feeling weakened slightly by the turmoil the Defiant were causing. He himself was actually starting to feel a little better. He smirked, those idiots may have crippled his government, but that had also managed to unite his people against the Defiant.

Prussia's voice cut through any hope of maintaining his train of thought. "Service station in two miles! I need a piss!"

"...Can't it wait? We can't afford to waste time."

"We can't afford me pissing my pants just as I awesomely kick their asses!"

McCoy sighed. "I have to say I'm with Prussia, I need to get out of this car, but just for a short time though. Like England said, we can't afford to waste too much time."

* * *

The service station was small, but it was what was needed. Prussia had taken care of his 'needs', and joined America in the small shop, buying a few snacks. His hair and eyes gathered stares from the few staff and other customers. Before he could make a scene, McCoy elbowed him slightly, and leaned closer to whisper. "We need to be going, perhaps you should think about covering your hair next time we're out in public, we're getting looks."

"Ja, sure. People can't handle my awesomeness, I know."

They were just about to leave when Prussia felt a small tug at his jeans. Looking down, he saw a small child, hood over her head failing to completely cover her white hair and golden eyes.

"...Are... You like me?"

* * *

**PROCRASTINATES INTENSELY**

**Don't worry, after this week, it's the Christmas holidays! C:**

**I love writing this. **

**STUFF**

**WILL**

**HAPPEN**

**((NINJA EDIT BECAUSE I REMEMBERED WHAT I WANTED TO SAY HERE: Of course this fic isn't entirely serious, the characters aren't serious. Not even Germany. _One of his character songs is about baking_. You can write your german sex gods and smexy English pirates, but in the end, if you ask me they are all adorable idiots****.))**


	22. You are what is written in your heart

**I don't own many things that I wish I did. Hetalia, the new Professor Layton game, you get the picture.**

* * *

"Are... You like me?"

The girl blinked, her gold eyes staring into Prussia's red ones. It took a moment for Prussia to come out of his daze. "What, awesome eyes and hair? Yeah, other people can't handle it, can they?" He laughed, causing the people in the shop to stare again.

She looked at him questioningly, and when she spoke, it was halting and quiet. "Uh... Sorry... That's not what I meant... You're a nation, aren't you?"

Prussia's face fell slightly, and McCoy tugged at his arm, indicating that they should probably go. But... Prussia couldn't move, he couldn't leave her behind.

Slowly, he crouched down to her level. "...How did you know that? Did you hear that on the Internet or something?"

"I'm like you... I'm a nation too."

It was Prussia's turn to look at her questioningly. "A nation? Then... Who are you?"

She gulped. Now or never... "My name is... Defiant."

Several expressions flashed across Prussia's face within a matter moments, and he was wondering if he heard her correctly. "Wha..." He stood up to his full height again, stepping back slightly. He shot McCoy a look, and it seemed she hadn't heard what the child had said. Prussia looked round, it seemed that the others around them were no longer paying attention, all but one man, who at this moment strode up to the child and grabbed hold of her hand.

"We can't stop, it's too risky, they might catch up with us."

Before Prussia or McCoy could say or do anything, Defiant was pleading to the unknown man, tugging back on his hand to stop him from leaving.

"No!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's one of them."

The man stopped. He looked Defiant in the eyes, and when she didn't break eye contact, he turned to face Prussia. "...Is that true?"

As Prussia was contemplating whether to answer, McCoy came between him and the man. "Just what is going on?! Who are you?"

America also walked up to them, placing his hand on Prussia's shoulder. "Yo, what's going on?"

The man looked scared briefly, calming down soon after. He looked the three of them over before he spoke again. "You two... You're nations..."

America practically jumped backwards, taking up a fighting stance. "Aw, hell, you're not one of those Defiant dudes are ya? I don't wanna cause a scene in here but I will if I have to!"

The man winced, little Defiant clinging to his leg. "No... Well... Not any more. We're here to help you."

Prussia tapped America on the shoulder before hissing in his ear. "That girl said that she was Defiant. Like, actual nation Defiant."

America's eyes widened. "What?"

He his eyes darted between everyone, but before he could start anything, both McCoy and the man stopped him. There was an awkward pause, before the man spoke again. "Perhaps we should take this outside, or at least elsewhere. We're getting looks again."

* * *

Outside in the car park, away from most of the prying eyes, England had been waiting for them to come back, leaning on the car as he was still slightly weak on his feet. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the two unknown figures trailing behind the three that he knew. "Can I help you two?"

America came bounding right up to him, uncomfortably close. Didn't that idiot understand the concept of personal space? "Iggy, you'll never guess who the kid says she is."

England pushed him away slightly, partly to remind America about how he shouldn't be so close, but also so he could get another look at who he was referring to. The child in question was was trying to hide behind the other stranger, and a hood obscured any facial features that might enlighten him as to who she was. "Is it really... We don't have time for games, just tell me."

Prussia butted in before America could do so. "She's _apparently_ the personification of the Defiant."

"..._what_. What the bloody hell are you playing at?! First off, that's impossible, secondly... What the hell-"

"**It's true!**" ...The three nations and McCoy all now focused on Defiant's guardian, who had by this point had enough. "If she wasn't like you, she wouldn't have been experimented on by them! She's been through too much already, and we didn't go to all this trouble for you to turn her backs on her! At least one person has already given their life to try and save her..."

His voice tailed off, presumably as he thought of the person who had died. Defiant looked sullen too, but she tried to comfort him as he fought back tears. There was another long silence as words failed them all, either because they didn't know what to say or where to start. McCoy walked over to him, comforting him like Defiant was. "Hey, it's all going to be okay. We'll help you-"

"McCoy, if this was true, which it isn't, it would likely be a trap! Either way, it probably is! The Defiant murdered all those people, and I'm not going to let it happen again by falling for such an obvious ruse as this!"

England lunged at the man, but had forgot about how he was still recovering, leading to him stumbling and grabbing onto Prussia for support. He resorted to glaring at him instead.

Prussia sighed. "England, I believe them."

"You can't be serious! How could an organisation such as the Defiant create a nation?"

"Hey, you're talking to the former Teutonic Knights here. It's possible."

". . . ...but..."

America spoke up again, having spent the last few moments looking unusually thoughtful. "Iggy, we've all had bosses who we've either not agreed with or who have treated us badly. ...You still remember the tower, right?"

England's face softened and fell. They... All made good points. Not that he would willingly admit it. But did he believe her, that she was the nation of an organisation created to oppose them?

"...Alright, we'll help you, but only on the condition that you help us."

The look of sheer joy and relief on Defiant's face helped to assure England that he had made the right choice.

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want Defiant? We didn't free you so you could get captured again."

"I'll be fine. They need me, and besides, I'm sure the other nations will keep me safe! Right?"

Defiant turned round to face the rest of the group, and was given a grin from America. "Sure I will, I'm the hero after all!"

He struck a pose, which cued Prussia to chime in as well. "Ja, you won't get hurt with the awesome Prussia around as well."

They continued to talk as McCoy was talking to England a little way away from them. She couldn't help but smile at the resilience and enthusiasm of little Defiant. "So, nations aren't always tied to countries?"

"Hmm? No, not always. We're more... Embodiments of identity. There's no set criteria for the birth of a nation, but being associated with a specific area wouldn't be one of them if there were. As Prussia said, before he was Prussia, he was the nation of an order of knights."

"...Wow... To think all this went on without everyone knowing; history lessons would be a hell of a lot more interesting with you guys. But..."

"...yes?"

McCoy looked worried as she glanced across. "...If she is Defiant... What will happen to her if we do take the Defiant on? Will she be okay? I mean, if what they did to your government affected you like that... Will she live?"

McCoy couldn't place the look in England's eye as he met her gaze, but right then she could tell that he was much, much older than what his face seemed to be. "To be honest, I don't know."

* * *

**Gah, dreadfully sorry for the wait, it's a paradox when you're more busy during the holidays than term time. It is... 25 minutes till midnight on Christmas eve as I am typing this, so you probably won't see an update for a few days at least. IM NOT DEAD AND I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU GUYS I WOULDN'T DARE. **

**Till next time, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night/morning/afternoon/evening (delete as appropriate).**


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